THE HOLY STATE By Thomas Fuller bachelor of divinity, & Prebendary of Sarum late of Sidney college in Cambridge. CAMBRIDGE▪ Printed by R: D: for John Williams at the sign of the crown in St. Paul's churchyard 1642 W: Martial Sculpt THE HOLY STATE. BY THOMAS FULLER, B. D. and prebendary of Sarum. ZECHARIAH 14.20. In that day shall there be upon the bells of the horses, holiness UNTO THE LORD. CAMBRIDGE: ¶ Printed by ROGER DANIEL for john Williams, and are to be sold at the sign of the Crown in S. Paul's Churchyard. 1642. To the Reader. WHo is not sensible with sorrow of the distractions of this age? To write books therefore may seem unseasonable, especially in a time wherein the press, like an unruly horse, hath cast off his bridle of being licenced, and some serious books, which dare fly abroad, are hooted at by a flock of Pamphlets. But be pleased to know that when I left my home, it was fair weather, and my journey was half passed, before I discovered the tempest, and had gone so fare in this Work, that I could neither go backward with credit, nor forward with comfort. As for the matter of this Book, therein I am resident on my Profession; holiness in the latitude thereof falling under the cognizanse of a Divine. For curious method, expect none, Essays for the most part not being placed as at a Feast, but placing themselves as at an Ordinary. The characters I have conformed to the then standing Laws of the Realm, (a twelvemonth ago were they sent to the press) since which time the wisdom of the King and State hath thought fitting to alter many things, and I expect the discretion of the Reader should make his alterations accordingly. And I conjure thee by all Christian ingenuity, that if lighting here on some passages, rather harsh-sounding than ill-intended, to construe the same by the general drift and main scope which is aimed at. Nor let it render the modesty of this Book suspected, because it presumes to appear in company unmanned by any Patron: If right, it will defend itself; if wrong, none can defend it: Truth needs not, falsehood deserves not a Supporter. And indeed the matter of this Work is too high for a subjects, the workmanship thereof too low for a Prince's patronage. And now I will turn my pen into prayer, That God would be pleased to discloud these gloomy days with the beams of his mercy: which if I may be so happy as to see, it will then encourage me to count it freedom to serve two apprenticeships (God spinning out the thick thread of my life so long) in writing the ecclesiastical History from Christ's time to our days, if I shall from remoter parts be so planted, as to enjoy the benefit of walking, and standing Libraries, without which advantages the best vigilancy doth but vainly dream to undertake such a task. Mean time I will stop the leakage of my soul, and what heretofore hath run out in writing, shall hereafter (God willing) be improved in constant preaching, in what place soever God's providence, and friends good will shall fix Thine in all Christian offices THOMAS FULLER. An Index of the several Chapters contained in this Book; the first figure showing the book, the second the chapter, the third the page. B. Ch. Page 1 4 Abraham's life. 10 2 1 The Advocate. 51 5 19 Duke D'Alva's life. 435 5 18 Andronicus his life. 429 3 8 Anger. 169 2 6 Antiquary. 69 3 6 Apparel. 164 2 7 Artist. 72 5 6 Atheist. 378 4 11 S. Augustine's life. 284 5 13 Barrettour. 408 4 9 The Bishop. 277 3 18 Books. 199 5 7 Borgia his life. 383 4 4 Brandon his life. 254 1 14 Elder Brother. 44 15 Younger Brother. 47 3 7 Building. 166 4 6 Lord Burleigh his life. 265 2 23 Cambdens life. 145 1 6 Child. 14 3 24 Churches. 219 3 5 Company. 161 3 17 Contentment. 195 2 4 The controversial Divine. 60 3 15 Deformity. 190 5 14 The Degenerous Gentleman 410 5 11 The Donatists. 396 2 21 S r Francis Drakes life. 132 4 20 Edward the black Prince his life. 342 1 9 Eliezers' life. 22 4 15 Queen Elizabeth her life. 312 4 16 The ambassador. 319 5 4 Endor Witch, her life. 369 3 9 Expecting Preferment. 171 3 23 Fame. 215 4 1 Favourite. 237 3 12 Fools. 180 4 17 The general. 326 2 24 The Gentleman. 149 3 21 Gravity. 209 4 2 haman's life. 245 2 19 Handicraftsman. 119 5 1 Harlot. 357 2 22 Herald. 141 5 10 Heretic. 393 1 13 Hildegardis her life. 40 3 1 Hospitality. 153 1 3 Husband. 8 5 8 Hypocrite. 388 4 14 Lady Jane her life. 307 5 9 jehu his life. 390 3 2 jesting. 155 5 5 joan of Arc her life. 372 5 2 joan Queen of Naples her life. 361 4 7 judge. 270 4 21 The King. 349 4 13 The Lady. 301 2 13 Landlord. 99 5 12 The liar. 406 3 22 Marriage. 212 4 8 Markham his life. 274 1 7 Master. 17 2 14 Master of a college. 102 3 10 Memory. 174 2 17 Merchant. 113 2 15 Metcalfe his life. 105 2 9 The Minister. 80 3 25 Ministers maintenance. 228 3 20 Moderation. 205 1 2 Monica her life. 4 4 12 The Nobleman. 296 2 3 Paracelsus his life. 56 1 5 Parent. 12 2 11 Parishioner. 93 2 12 Patron. 95 1 11 Lady Paula her life. 27 5 16 Pazzians conspiracy. 421 2 10 Perkins his life. 88 3 11 Fancy. 177 2 2 Physician. 353 3 16 Plantations. 193 4 19 The Prince. 336 3 13 Recreations. 183 4 11 Bishop Ridleys' life. 289 2 8 Scaliger his life. 76 2 16 Schoolmaster. 109 2 20 Sea-Captain. 128 3 3 Self-praising. 157 1 8 Servant. 19 2 19 Soldier. 119 4 5 Statesman. 257 4 18 Swedens King. 330 3 19 Time-serving. 202 3 14 Tombs. 187 5 15 Traitor. 418 3 4 Travel. 158 5 17 Tyrant. 425 1 12 The Virgin. 34 2 5 Whitakers his life. 65 1 10 Widow. 24 1 1 Wife. 1 5 3 Witch. 365 4 3 Cardinal Wolsey his life. 249 2 18 The Yeoman. 116 ERRATA. Page 70 line 29 after superstition add, How the Fathers. 121. 9 r. wear. 152. 8. r. (Yea Mercury was a greater speaker th●n Jupiter himself) 202. 5. r. affectation. The Holy State. THE FIRST BOOK. CHAP. 1. The good Wife. St. PAUL to the Colossians chap. 3. vers. 18. first adviseth women to submit themselves to their husbands, and then counselleth men to love their wives. And sure it was fitting that women should first have their lesson given them, because it is hardest to be learned, and therefore they need have the more time to con it. For the same reason we first begin with the character of a good Wife. She commandeth her husband in any equal matter, Maxim 1 by constant obeying him. It was always observed, that what the English gained of the French in battle by valour, the French regained of the English by cunning in * Comineus lib. 4. cap. 8 & Rodinus. De Repub. lib. 5. p. 782. Treaties: So if the husband should chance by his power in his passion to prejudice his wives right, she wisely knoweth by compounding and complying to recover and rectify it again. She never crossetb her husband in the springtide of his anger, 2 but stays till it be ebbing-water. And then mildly she argues the matter, not so much to condemn him, as to acquit herself. Surely men, contrary to iron, are worst to be wrought upon when they are hot; and are fare more tractable in cold blood. It is an observation of Seamen, * Erasmus Dial. in nausragio. That if a single meteor or fireball falls on their mast, it portends ill luck; but if two come together (which they count Castor and Pollux) they presage good success: But sure in a family it bodeth most bad, when two firebals (husbands and wives anger) come both together. 3. She keeps home if she hath not her husband's company, or leave for her patent to go abroad: For the house is the woman's centre. It is written, Psalm 104.2. The sun ariseth,— man goeth forth unto his work, and to his labour until the evening: but it is said of the good woman, Prov. 31.15. She riseth whiles it is yet night: For man in the race of his work starts from the rising of the sun, because his business is without doors, and not to be done without the light of heaven: but the woman hath her work within the house, and therefore can make the sun rise by lighting of a candle. 4. Her clothes are rather comely then costly, and she makes plain cloth to be velvet by her handsome wearing it. She is none of our dainty dames, who love to appear in variety of suits every day new, as if a good gown, like a stratagem in war, were to be used but once: But our good wife sets up a sail according to the keel of her husband's estate; and if of high parentage, she doth not so remember what she was by birth, that she forgets what she is by match. 5. Arcana imperii (her husband's secrets) she will not divulge. Especially she is careful to conceal his infirmities. If he be none of the wisest, she so order it that he appears on the public stage but seldom; and then he hath conned his part so well, that he comes off with great applause. If his Forma informans be but bad, she provides him better formas assistentes, gets him wise servants and secretaries. 6. In her husband's absence she is wife and deputy husband, which makes her double the files of her diligence. At his return he finds all things so well, that he wonders to see himself at home when he was abroad. Her carriage is so modest, 7. that she disheartens wantoness not only to take but even to besiege her chastity. I confess some desperate men will hope any thing; yea, their shameless boldness will fasten on impossibilities, measuring other folk's badness by their own: yet seldom such Salamanders, which live in the fire of lust, dare approach, without seeing the smoke of wantonness in looks, words, apparel, or behaviour. And though charity commands me to believe, that some women which hang out signs, notwithstanding will not lodge strangers; yet these mock-guests are guilty in tempting others to tempt them. In her husband's sickness she feels more grief than she shows. 8. Partly that she may not dishearten him; and partly because she is not at leisure to seem so sorrowful, that she may be the more serviceable. Her children, 9 though many in number, are none in noise, steering them with a look whither she listeth. When they grow up, she teacheth them not pride but painfulness, making their hands to cloth their backs, and them to wear the livery of their own industry. She makes not her daughter's Gentlewomen before they be women, rather teaching them what they should pay to others, then receive from them. The heaviest work of her servants she maketh light, 10. by orderly and seasonable enjoining it: Wherefore her service is counted a preferment, and her teaching better than her wages. Her maids follow the precedent of their mistress, live modestly at home. One asked a grave Gentlewoman, How her maids came by so good husbands, and yet seldom went abroad; Oh, said she, good husbands come home to them. So much for this subject: and what is defective in this description shall be supplied by the pattern ensuing. MONICA WIFE of Patricius, and Mother to St Augustine. She Died at Ostia in italy. Aᵒ Do 389. aged 56 years. W. marshal sculp: CHAP. 2. The life of MONICA. MONICA is better known by the branch of her issue, than root of her parentage, and was born in or nigh Tagasta in afric. * August. confess. lib. 9 c. 8. Her parents, whose names we find not, were Christians, and careful of her education, committing her to the breeding of an old maid in the house, who, though herself crooked with age, was excellent to straighten the manners of youth. She instructed her with holy severity, never allowing her to drink wine, or between meals. Having out-grown her tuition, she began by degrees to sip, and drink wine, lesser draughts like wedges widening her throat for greater, till at last (ill customs being not knocked, but insensibly screwed into our souls) she could fetch off her whole ones. Now it happened that a young maid (formerly her partner in potting) fell at variance with her, and (as malice when she shoots draws her arrow to the head) called her tosspot, and drunkard; whereupon Monica reform herself, and turned temperate. Thus bitter taunts sometime make wholesome physic, when God sanctifies unto us the malice of our enemies to perform the office of good will. After this was she married to Patricius, one of more honour than wealth, and as yet a pagan; wherein she broke S. Paul's precept, To marry only in the Lord. Perchance then there was a dearth of husbands, or she did it by her parent's importunity, or out of promise of his conversion: and the history herein being but lamely delivered us, it is charity to support it with the most favourable construction. He was of a stern nature, none more lamb when pleased, or lion when angry; and which is worse, his wild * August. confess. lib. 9 c. 9 affections did prey abroad, till she lured them home by her loving behaviour. Not like those wives who by their hideous outcries drive their wand'ring husbands farther out of the way. Her own house was to her a house of correction, wherein her husband's mother was bitter unto her, having a quarrel not so much to her person as relation, because a daughter in law. Her servants, to climb into the favour of their old mistress, trampled on their young, they bringing tales, and the old woman belief; though the teeth of their malice did but file her innocency the brighter. Yea at last her mother in law, turning her compurgatour, caused her son to punish those maids which causelessly had wronged their mistress. When her neighbours, which had husbands of far milder dispositions, would show her their husband's cruelty legible in their faces, all her pitying was reproving them: and whereas they expected to be praised for their patience, she condemned them for deserving such punishment. She never had blow from, or jar with her husband, she so suppled his hard nature with her obedience, and to her great comfort saw him converted to Christianity before his death. Also she saw Augustine her son, formerly vicious in life, and erroneous in doctrine (whose soul she bathed in her Tears) become a worthy Christian, who coming to have his ears tickled, had his heart touched, and got Religion in to boot with the eloquence of S. Ambrose. She survived not long after her son's conversion (God sends his servants to bed when they have done their work) and her candle was put out, as soon as the day did down in S. Augustine. Take an instance or two of her signal piety. There was a custom in * August. confess. lib. 6. c. 2. afric to bring pulse bread and wine to the monuments of dead Saints, wherein Monica was as forward as any. But being better instructed that this custom was of heathenish parentage, and that Religion was not so poor as to borrow rites from Pagans, she instantly left off that ceremony: and as for pieties sake she had done it thus long, so for pieties sake she would do it no longer. How many old folks now adays, whose best argument is use, would have flown in their faces, who should stop them in the full career of an ancient custom. There was one Licentius a novice-convert, who had got these words by the end, Turn us again, O Lord God of hosts: show us the light of thy countenance and we shall be whole. And (as it is the fashion of many men's tongues to echo forth the last sentence they learned) he said it in all places he went to. But Monica, overhearing him to sing it in the house of office, was * August. lib. 1. De ordine, c. 8. highly offended at him: because holy things are to be suited to holy places; and the harmony could not be sweet where the song did jar with the place. And although some may say, that a gracious heart consecrateth every place into a chapel; yet sure though pious things are not where unfitting to be thought on, they may somewhere be improper to be uttered. Drawing near her death, she sent most pious thoughts as harbingers to heaven, and her soul saw a glimpse of happiness through the chinks of her sicknesse-broken body. She was so inflamed with zeal, that she turned all objects into fuel to feed it. One day standing with S. Augustine at an East-window, * August. confess. lib. 9 c. 10. she raised herself to consider the light of God's presence, in respect whereof all corporal light is so fare from being matched, it deserves not to be mentioned. Thus mounted on heavenly meditations, and from that high pitch surveying earthly things, the great distance made them appear unto her like a little point, scarce to be seen, and less to be respected. She died at Ostia in Italy in the fifty sixth year of her age, Augustine closing her eyes, when through grief he had scarce any himself. CHAP. 3. The good Husband. HAving formerly described a good Wife, she will make a good Husband, whose character we are now to present. Maxim 1 His love to his wife weakeneth not his ruling her, and his ruling lesseneth not his loving her. Wherefore he avoideth all fondness, (a sick love, to be praised in none, and pardoned only in the newly married) whereby more have wilfully betrayed their command, than ever lost it by their wife's rebellion. Methinks the he-viper is right enough served, which (as * Plin. Nat. hist. lib. 10. cap. 62. Pliny reports) puts his head into the she-vipers mouth, and she bites it off. And what wonder is it if women take the rule to themselves, which their uxorious husbands first surrender unto them? 2 He is constant to his wife, and confident of her. And sure where jealousy is the jailor, many break the prison, it opening more ways to wickedness than it stoppeth; so that where it findeth one, it maketh ten dishonest. 3 He alloweth her meet maintenance, but measures it by his own estate: nor will he give less, nor can she ask more. Which allowance, if shorter than her deserts and his desire, he lengtheneth it out with his courteous carriage unto her; chief in her sickness, than not so much word-pitying her, as providing necessaries for her. 4 That she may not entrench on his prerogative, he maintains her propriety in feminine affairs: yea, therein he follows her advice: For the soul of a man is planted so high, that he overshoots such low matter as lie level to a woman's eye, and therefore her counsel therein may better hit the mark. Causes that are properly of feminine cognizance he suffers her finally to decide, not so much as permitting an appeal to himself, that their jurisdictions may not interfere. He will not countenance a stubborn servant against her, but in her maintains his own Authority. Such husbands as bait the mistress with her maids, and clap their hands at the sport, will have cause to wring them afterwards. Knowing she is the weaker vessel he bears with her infirmities. 5 All hard using of her he detests, desiring therein to do not what may be lawful, but fitting. And grant her to be of a servile nature, such as may be bettered by beating; yet he remembers he hath enfranchised her by marrying her. On her wedding-day she was like S. Paul free born, and privileged from any servile punishment. He is careful that the wounds betwixt them take not air, 6 and be publicly known. Jars concealed are half reconciled; which if generally known, 'tis a double task to stop the breach at home, and men's mouths abroad. To this end he never publicly reproves her. An open reproof puts her to do penance before all that are present, after which many rather study revenge then reformation. He keeps her in the wholesome ignorance of unnecessary secrets. 7 They will not be starved with the ignorance, who perchance may surfeit with the knowledge of weighty Counsels, too heavy for the weaker sex to bear. He knows little, who will tell his wife all he knows. He beats not his wife after his death. 8 One having a shrewd wife, yet loath to use her hardly in his life time, awed her with telling her that he would beat her when he was dead, meaning that he would leave her no maintenance. This humour is unworthy a worthy man, who will endeavour to provide her a competent estate: yet he that impoverisheth his children to enrich his widow, destroys a quick hedge to make a dead one. CHAP. 4. The Life of ABRAHAM. I intent not to range over all his life as he stands threesquare in relation, Husband, Father, Master. We will only survey and measure his conjugal side, which respecteth his wife. We read not that ever he upbraided her for her barrenness, as knowing that natural defects are not the creatures fault, but the creators' pleasure: all which time his love was loyal to her alone. As for his going in to Hagar, it was done not only with the consent but by the advice of Sarah, who was so ambitious of children she would be made a mother by a proxy. He was not jealous of her (though a grand beauty) in what company soever he came. Indeed he feared the Egyptians, because the Egyptians feared not God; suspecting rather them of force, then her of falseness, and believing that sooner they might kill him, then corrupt her. Yet (as well as he loved her) he expected she should do work fit for her calling. Make ready quickly three measures of meal and knead it. Well may Sarah be cook, where Abraham was caterer, yea where God was guest. The print of her fingers still remain in the meal, and of crumbling dough she hath made a lasting monument of her good houswifry. Being falsely indicted by his wife, he never traversed the bill, but compounded with her on her own terms. The case this. Hagar being with child by Abraham, her pride swelled with her belly, and despiseth her mistress: Sarah, laying her action wrong, sues Abraham for her maid's fault, and appeals to God. I see the Plaintiff hath not always the best cause; nor are they most guilty which are most blamed. However Abraham passes by her peevishness, and remits his maid to stand or fall to her own mistress. Though he had a great part in Hagar, he would have none in hagars' re●bellion. Masters which protect their faulty servants hinder the proceeding of justice in a family. He did deny himself to grant his wives will in a matter of great consequence. Sarah desired, Cast out this bondwoman and her son. Oh hard word! She might as well have said, Cast out of thyself nature and natural affection. See how Abraham struggles with Abraham, the Father in him striving with the Husband in him, till God moderated with his casting-voyce, and Abraham was contented to hearken to the counsel of his wife. Being to sacrifice Isaac, we find not that he made Sarah privy to his project. To tell her, had been to torture her, fearing her affections might be too strong for her faith. Some secrets are to be kept from the weaker sex; not always out of a distrust, lest they hurt the counsel by telling it, but lest the counsel hurt them by keeping it. The dearest Husband cannot bail his wife when death arrests her. Sarah dies, and Abraham weeps. Tears are a tribute due to the dead. 'Tis fitting that the body when it's sown in corruption should be watered by those that plant it in the earth. The Hittites make him a fair offer, In the chiefest of our sepulchers bury thy dead: But he thinks the best of them too bad for his Sarah. Her chaste ashes did love to lie alone; he provides her a virgin tomb in the cave of Machpelah, where her corpse sweetly sleep till he himself came to bed to her, and was buried in the same grave. CHAP. 5. The good Parent. HE beginneth his care for his children not at their birth but conception, giving them to God to be, if not (as * 1. Sam. 1.11. Hannah did) his Chaplains, at least his Servants. This care he continueth till the day of his death, in their Infancy, Youth, and man's estate. In all which, Maxim 1 He showeth them in his own practice what to follow and imitate; and in others, what to shun and avoid. For though The words of the wi●e be as * Eccles 12.11. nails fastened by the masters of the Assemblies, yet sure their examples are the hammer to drive them in to take the deeper hold. A father that whipped his son for swearing, and swore himself whilst he whipped him, did more harm by his example then good by his correction. 2 He doth not welcome and embrace the first essays of sin in his children. Weeds are counted herbs in the beginning of the spring: nettles are put in pottage, and salads are made of eldern-buds. Thus fond fathers like the oaths and wanton talk of their little children, and please themselves to hear them displease God. But our wise Parent both instructs his children in Piety, and with correction blasts the first buds of profaneness in them. He that will not use the rod on his child, his child shall be used as a rod on him. 3 He observeth * Give● each child a part, Versteg. O● decayed intell. cap 3. Gavel-kind in dividing his affections, though not his estate. He loves them (though leaves them not) all alike. Indeed his main land he settles on the eldest: for where man takes away the birthright, God commonly takes away the blessing from a family. But as for his love, therein, like a well-drawn picture, he eyes all his children alike (if there be a parity of deserts) not parching one to drown another. Did not that mother show little wit in her great partiality, to whom when her neglected son complained that his brother (her darling) had hit and hurt him with a stone, whipped him only for standing in the way where the stone went which his brother cast? This partiality is tyranny, when Parents despise those that are deformed, enough to break them whom God had bowed before. He allows his children maintenance according to their quality: 4 Otherwise it will make them base, acquaint them with bad company and sharking tricks; and it makes them surfeit the sooner when they come to their estates. It is observed of camels, that having traveled long without water through sandy deserts, * Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 8. c. 18. Implentur cum bibendi est occasio & in praeteritum & in futurum: and so these thirsty heirs soak it when they come to their means, who whilst their fathers were living might not touch the top of his money, and think they shall never feel the bottom of it when they are dead. In choosing a profession he is directed by his child's disposition: 5 whose inclination is the strongest indenture to bind him to a trade. But when they set Abel to till the ground, and send Cain to keep sheep; Jacob to hunt, and Esau to live in tents; drive some to school, and others from it; they commit a rape on nature, and it will thrive accordingly. Yet he humour's not his child when he makes an unworthy choice beneath himself, or rather for ease then use, pleasure then profit. If his son prove wild he doth not cast him off so fare, 6 but he marks the place where he lights. With the mother of Moses, he doth not suffer his son so to sink or swim, but he leaves one to * Exod. 2.4. stand afar off to watch what will become of him. He is careful whilst he quencheth his luxury, not withal to put out his life. The rather, because their souls, who have broken and run out in their youth, have proved the more healthful for it afterwards. He moves him to marriage rather by arguments drawn from 7 his good, than his own authority. It is a style too Princely for a Parent herein, To will and command, but sure he may will and desire. Affections like the conscience are rather to be led then drawn; and 'tis to be feared, They that marry where they do not love, will love where they do not marry. 8 He doth not give away his loaf to his children, and then come to them for a piece of bread. He holds the reins (though loosely) in his own hands, and keeps to reward duty, and punish undutifulness; yet on good occasion for his children's advancement he will departed from part of his means. Base is their nature who will not have their branches lopped, till their body be felled; and will let go none of their goods, as if it presaged their speedy death: whereas it doth not follow that he that puts off his cloak must presently go to bed. 9 On his deathbed he bequeathes his blessing to all his children: Nor rejoiceth he so much to leave them great portions, as honestly obtained. Only money well and lawfully gotten is good and lawful money. And if he leaves his children young, he principally nominates God to be their Guardian, and next him is careful to appoint provident overseers. CHAP. 6. The Good Child. Maxim 1 HE reverenceth the person of his Parent though old, poor, and froward. As his Parent bare with him when a child, he bears with his Parent if twice a child: nor doth his dignity above him, cancel his duty unto him. When * Stapleton. in vita Tho. Mori, cap. 1. Sr. Thomas More was Lord chancellor of England, and Sr. John his father one of the Judges of the Kings-Bench, he would in Westminster-Hall beg his blessing of him on his knees. He observes his lawful commands, 2 and practiseth his precepts with all obedience. I cannot therefore excuse S. Barbara from undutifulness, and occasioning her own death. The matter this. Her father being a pagan commanded his workmen building his house, to make two windows in a room: Barbara, knowing her father's pleasure, in his absence enjoined them to make * A●phons. Vil●eg. in the ●i●e of Barbara on the 4. o● Decemb. three, that seeing them she might the better contemplate the mystery of the holy Trinity. (Methinks two windows might as well have raised her meditations, and the light arising from both, would as properly have minded her of the Holy Spirit proceeding from the Father and the son.) Her father enraged at his return, thus came to the knowledge of her religion, and accused her to the magistrate, which cost her her life. Having practised them himself, 3 he entayls his Parents precepts on his posterity. Therefore such instructions are by Solomon, Proverbs 1.9. compared to frontlets and chains (not to a suit of clothes, which serves but one, and quickly wears out, or out of fashion) which have in them a real lasting worth, and are bequeathed as legacies to another age. The same counsels observed are chains to grace, which neglected prove halters to strangle undutiful children. He is patiented under correction, 4 and thankful after it. When Mr West, formerly tutor (such I count in loco parentis) to Dr. Whitaker, was by him, than Regius Professor, created doctor, Whitaker solemnly gave him thanks before the University for giving him correction when his young scholar. In marriage he first and last consults with his father: 5 when propounded, when concluded. He best bowls at the mark of his own contentment, who besides the aim of his own eye, is directed by his father, who is to give him the ground. He is a stork to his parent, 6 and feeds him in his old age. Not only if his father hath been a pelican, but though he hath been an ostrich unto him, and neglected him in his youth. He confines him not a long way off to a short pension, forfeited if he comes in his presence; but shows piety at home, and learns (as S. Paul saith the 1. Timothy. 5.4.) to requite his Parent. And yet the debt (I mean only the principal, not counting the interest) cannot fully be paid, and therefore he compounds with his father to accept in good worth the utmost of his endeavour. 7 Such a child God commonly rewards with long life in this world. If he chance to die young, yet he lives long that lives well; and time misspent is not lived but lost. Besides, God is better than his promise, if he takes from him a long lease, and gives him a freehold of better value. As for disobedient children, 8 If preserved from the gallows, they are reserved for the rack, to be tortured by their own posterity. One complained, that never father had so undutiful a child as he had. Yes, said his son, with less grace than truth, my grandfather had. I conclude this subject with the example of a Pagans son, which will shame most Christians. Pomponius * In vita Attici in fine Epist. ad Attic. Atticus, making the funeral oration at the death of his mother, did protest that living with her threescore and seven years, he was never reconciled unto her, Se nunquam cum matre in gratiam rediisse; because (take the comment with the text) there never happened betwixt them the least jar which needed reconciliation. CHAP. 7. The good Master. HE is the heart in the midst of his household, primum vivens et ultimum moriens, first up and last a-bed, if not in his person yet in his providence. In his carriage he aimeth at his own and his servants good, and to advance both. He oversees the works of his servants. Maxim 1 One said that the dust that fell from the master's shoes was the best compost to manure ground. The lion * Plin. nat. Hist. lib. 8. cap 16. out of state will not run whilst any one looks upon him, but some servants out of slothfulness will not run except some do look upon them, spurred on with their master's eye. Chief he is careful exactly to take his servants reckon. If their Master takes no account of them, they will make small account of him, and care not what they spend who are never brought to an audit. He provides them victuals, 2 wholesome, sufficient and seasonable. He doth not so allay his servants bread to debase it so much as to make that servants meat which is not man's meat. He alloweth them also convenient rest and recreation, whereas some Masters, like a bad conscience, will not suffer them to sleep that have them. He remembers the old law of the Saxon King Ina, * S. H. Spilman in concili●s, An. ch. 692. pag. 188. If a villain work on Sunday by his lords command, he shall be free. The wages he contracts for he duly and truly pays to his servants. 3 The same word in the Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies rust and poison: and some strong poison is made of the rust of metals, but none more venomous than the rust of money in the rich man's purse unjustly detained from the labourer, which will poison and infect his whole estate. He never threatens * Ephes. 6.9. his servant but rather presently corrects him. 4 Indeed conditional threaten with promise of pardon on amendment are good and useful. Absolute threaten torment more, reform less, making servants keep their faults, and forsake their Masters: wherefore herein he never passeth his word, but makes present payment, lest the creditor run away from the debtor. 5 In correcting his servant, he becomes not a slave to his own passion. Not cruelly making new indentures of the flesh of his apprentice. To this end he never beats him in the height of his passion. Moses being to fetch water out of the rock, and commanded by God only to speak to it with his rod in his hand, being transported with anger smote it thrice. Thus some Masters, which might fetch penitent tears from their servants with a chiding word (only shaking the rod withal for terror) in their fury strike many blows which might better be spared. If he perceives his servant incorrigible, so that he cannot wash the black-moore, he washeth his hands of him, and fairly puts him away. 6 He is tender of his servant in his sickness and age. If crippled in his service, his house is his hospital: yet how many throw away those dry bones out of the which themselves have sucked the marrow? It is as usual to see a young servingman an old beggar, as to see a light-horse first from the great saddle of a Nobleman to come to the hackney-coach, and at last die in drawing a car. But the good Master is not like the cruel hunter in the fable, who beat his old dog because his toothless mouth let go the game; he rather imitates the noble nature of our Prince Henry, who took order for the keeping of an * Hows continuat. of Stow's Chron. pag. 836. old English mastiff which had made a Lion run away. Good reason good service in age should be rewarded. Who can without pity and pleasure behold that trusty vessel which carried Sr. Francis Drake about the world. Hitherto our discourse hath proceeded of the carriage of Masters towards free covenant servants, not intermeddling with their behaviour towards slaves & vassals, whereof we only report this passage: When Charles the fifth Emperor returning with his fleet from Algiers was extremely beaten with a tempest, and their ships overloaden, he caused them to cast their best horses into the sea to save the life of many * Pantal●●n part. 3. De ●llust. Germ. & alii autores. slaves, which according to the market price was not so much worth. Are there not many that in such a case had rather save Jack the horse than jockey the keeper. And yet those who first called England the Purgatory of servants, sure did us much wrong: Purgatory itself being as false in the application to us, as in the doctrine thereof; servants with us living generally on as good conditions as in any other country. And well may masters consider how easy a transposition it had been for God, to have made him to mount into the saddle that holds the stirrup; and him to sit down at the table, who stands by with a trencher. CHAP. 8. The good Servant. HE is one that out of conscience serves God in his Master, and so hath the principle of obedience in himself. As for those servants who found their obedience on some external thing, with engines, they will go no longer than they are wound, or weighed up. He doth not dispute his Masters lawful will, Maxim 1 but doth it. Hence it is that simple servants (understand such whose capacity is bare measure, without surplusage equal to the business he is used in) are more useful, because more manageable, than abler men, especially in matters wherein not their brains but hands are required. Yet if his Master out of want of experience enjoins him to do what is hurtful, and prejudicial to his own estate, duty herein makes him undutiful (if not to deny, to demur in his performance) and choosing rather to displease then hurt his master, he humbly represents his reasons to the contrary. 2 He loves to go about his business with cheerfulness. One said, He loved to hear his carter though not his cart to sing. God loveth a cheerful giver; and Christ reproved the Pharisees for disfiguring their faces with a sad countenance. Fools! who to persuade men that Angels lodged in their hearts, hung out a devil for a sign in their faces. Sure cheerfulness in doing renders a deed more acceptable. Not like those servants, who doing their work unwillingly, their looks do enter a protestation against what their hands are doing. 3 He dispatcheth his business with quickness and expedition. Hence the same English word Speed signifies celerity, and success; the former in business of execution causing the latter. Indeed haste and rashness are storms and tempests, breaking and wrecking business; but nimbleness is a fair full wind, blowing it with speed to the haven. As he is good at hand, so is he good at length, continually and constantly careful in his service. Many servants, as if they had learnt the nature of the besoms they use, are good for a few days, and afterwards grow unserviceable. 4 He disposeth not of his master's goods without his privity or consent: no not in the smallest matters. Open this wicket, and it will be in vain for masters to shut the door. If servants presume to dispose small things without their master's allowance (besides that many little leaks may sink a ship) this will widen their consciences to give away greater. But though he hath not always a particular leave, he hath a general grant, and a warrant dormant from his master to give an alms to the poor in his absence, if in absolute necessity. 5 His answers to his master are true, direct, and dutiful. If a dumb devil possesseth a servant, a winding cane is the fittest circle, and the master the exorcist to drive it out. Some servants are so talkative, one may as well command the echo as them not to speak last; and then they count themselves conquerors, because last they leave the field. Others, though they seem to yield and go away, yet with the flying Parthians shoot backward over their shoulders, and dart bitter taunts at their masters; yea, though with the clock they have given the last stroke, yet they keep a jarring, muttering to themselves a good while after. Just correction he bears patiently, 6 and unjust he takes cheerfully; knowing that stripes unjustly given more hurt the master than the man: and the logic maxim is verified, Agens agendo repatitur, the smart most lights on the striker. Chief he disdains the baseness of running away. Because charity is so cold, 7 his industry is the hotter to provide something for himself, whereby he may be maintained in his old age. If under his master he trades for himself (as an apprentice may do if he hath * Bracton. lib. 5. tract. 2. cap. 3. num. 7. covenanted so beforehand) he provides good bounds and sufficient fences betwixt his own and his master's estate (Jacob Gen. 30.36. set his flock three day's journey from Laban's) that no quarrel may arise about their propriety, nor suspicion that his remnant hath eaten up his masters whole cloth. CHAP. 9 The life of ELIEZER. ELiezer was Steward of Abraham's household, Lieutenant general over the army of his servants, ruler over all his Master had: the confidence in his loyalty, causing the largeness of his commission. But as for those who make him the founder of Damascus, on no other evidence but because he is called Eliezer of Damascus, they build a great city on too narrow a foundation. It argues his goodness that Abraham, if dying without a son, intended him his heir (a kinsman in grace is nearest by the surest side) till Isaac stepping in stopped out Eliezer, and reversed those resolutions. The Scripture presents us with a remarkable precedent of * That the nameless, servant, Gen. 24 was this Eliezer Abraham's steward, is the opinion of Luther in his comment on that chapter, Rivet on the same, Exercit. 111. with many others. his piety, in a matter of great moment: Abraham, being to send him into Mesopotamia, caused him to swear that he would faithfully fetch Isaac a wife from his own kindred. Eliezer demurred awhile before he would swear, carefully surveying the latitude of the oath, lest some unseen ambushes therein should surprise his conscience. The most scrupulous to take an oath will be the most careful to perform it, whereas those that swear it blindly will do it lamely. He objects, Peradventure the woman will not be willing to follow me. At last being satisfied in this quaere, he takes the oath: as no honest man which means to pay, will refuse to give his bond if lawfully required. He takes ten camels (than the coaches of the east-country) with servants and all things in good equipage, to show a sample of his master's greatness; and being a stranger in the country asked direction of him who best knew the way, God himself. If any object that his craving of a sign was a sign of infidelity, and unmannerly boldness to confine God to particulars; yet perchance God's spirit prompted him to make the request, who sometimes moves men to ask what he is minded to give, and his petition seemeth just because granted. Rebecca meets him at the well. The lines drawn from every part of the sign required centre themselves in her. Drink my Lord, said she, and I will draw water for thy camels. Her words prophesy that she will be a good housewife, and a good housekeeper. Eliezers' eyes are dazzled with the beams of God's providence: Her drawing of water drew more wonder from him; and the more he drinks of her pitcher, the more he is athirst to know the issue of the matter. He questions her of her parentage, and finds all his mystical expectation historically expounded in her. Then he bowed down his head, and did homage to God's providence, blessing him for his protection. Many favours which God giveth us ravel out for want of hemming, through our own unthankfulness: for though prayer purchaseth blessings, giving praise doth keep the quiet possession of them. Being come into the house, his first care is for his cattles, whose dumbness is oratory to a conscientious man; and he that will not be merciful to his beast, is a beast himself. Then preferring his message before his meat, he empties his mind before he fills his body. No dainties could be digested, whilst his errand like a crudity lay on his stomach. In delivering his message, first he reads his commission, I am Abraham's servant; then he reports the fullness of his master's wealth without any hyperboles. How many, employed in such a matter, would have made mountains of gold of molehills of silver? not so Eliezer, reporting the bare truth; and a good estate if told, commends itself. As plain also is his narration of the passages of God's providence, the artificialness whereof best appeared in his natural relation. Then concludes he, with desiring a direct answer to his motion. The matter was soon transacted betwixt them; for seeing that heaven did ask the banes, why should earth forbid them? Only her friends desire Rebecca should stay ten days with them, which Eliezer would not yield to. He would speedily finish that bargain whereof God had given the happy earnest; and because blest hitherto, make more haste hereafter. If in a dark business we perceive God to guide us by the lantern of his providence, it is good to follow the light close, lest we lose it by our lagging behind. He will not truant it now in the afternoon, but with convenient speed returns to Abraham, who only was worthy of such a Servant, who only was worthy of such a Master. CHAP. 10. The good Widow. SHe is a woman whose head hath been quite cut off, and yet she liveth, and hath the second part of virginity. Conceive her to have buried her Husband decently according to his quality and condition, and let us see how she behaves herself afterwards. Maxim 1 Her grief for her Husband though real, is moderate. Excessive was the sorrow of King Richard the second beseeming him neither as king, man, or Christian, who so fervently loved Anna of Bohemia his Queen, that when she died at Shean in Surrey, he both cursed the place, and also out of madness * Weaver fun. monum. p. 473. out of Stow's Annals. overthrew the whole house. 2 But our widow's sorrow is no storm but a still rain. Indeed some foolishly discharge the surplusage of their passions on themselves, tearing their hair, so that their friends coming to the funeral, know not which most to bemoan the dead husband, or the dying widow. Yet commonly it comes to pass, that such widow's grief is quickly emptied, which streameth out at so large a vent; whilst their tears that but drop, will hold running a long time. She continues a competent time in her widow's estate. 3 Anciently they were, at least, to live out their annum luctus, their year of sorrow. But as some * vid. August. de c●vitat. Dei lib. 15. cap. 12. erroneously compute the long lives of the patriarches before the flood not by solary, by lunary years, making a month a year: so many overhasty widows cut their year of mourning very short, and within few weeks make post speed to a second marriage. She doth not only live sole and single, 4 but chaste and honest. We know pesthouses always stand alone, and yet are full of infectious diseases. Solitariness is not an infallible argument of sanctity: and it is not enough to be unmarried, but to be undefiled. Though going abroad sometimes about her business, 5 she never makes it her business to go abroad. Indeed man goeth forth to his labour, and a widow in civil affairs is often forced to act a double part of man and woman, and must go abroad to solicit her business in person, what she cannot do by the proxy of her friends. Yet even then she is most careful of her credit, and tender of her modesty, not impudently thrusting into the society of men. Oh 'tis improper for tinder to strike fire, and for their sex which are to be sued to, first to intrude, and offer their company. She loves to look on her husband's picture, 6 in the children he hath left her: not foolishly fond over them for their father's sake (this were to kill them in honour of the dead) but giveth them careful education. Her husband's friends are ever her welcomest guests, whom she entertaineth with her best cheer, and with honourable mention of their friends, and her husband's memory. 7 If she can speak little good of him, she speaks but little of him. So handsomely folding up her discourse, that his virtues are shown outwards, and his vices wrapped up in silence, as counting it barbarism to throw dirt on his memory who hath moulds cast on his body. She is a champion for his credit if any speak against him. Foolish is their project who by raking up bad savour against their former husbands think thereby to perfume their bed for a second marriage. 8 She putteth her especial confidence in God's providence. Surely if he be a father to the fatherless, it must needs follow that he is an husband to the widow. And therefore she seeks to gain and keep his love unto her, by her constant prayer and religious life. 9 She will not mortgage her first husband's pawns, thereby to purchase the good will of a second. If she marrieth (for which she hath the Apostles licence, not to say mandate, I will that the younger widows marry) she will not abridge her children of that which justly belongs unto them. Surely a broken faith to the former is but a weak foundation to build thereon a loyal affection to a latter love. Yet if she becomes a mother in law, there is no difference betwixt her carriage to her own and her second husband's children, save that she is severest to her own, over whom she hath the sole jurisdiction. And if her second husband's children by a former wife commit a fault, she had rather bind them over to answer for it before their own father, then to correct them herself, to avoid all suspicion of hard using of them. PAULA widow of Toxotius, and Mother to eustochium. She Died at Bethlehem, Anᵒ doni 404 Aged 56 years 8 mon●ths 21 days W.M. 〈◊〉. CHAP. 11. The life of the Lady PAULA. WHat? (will some say) having a wood of widows of upright conversation, must you needs gather one crooked with superstition to be pattern to all the rest? must Paula be their precedent? whose life was a very masse-book, so that if every point of popery were lost, they might be found in her practice. Nothing less. Indeed Paula lived in an age which was, as I may say, in the knuckle and bending betwixt the primitive times and superstition, popery being then a hatching, but fare from being fledged. Yea no Papist (though picking out here and there some passages which make to his purpose) will make her practice in gross the square of his own: for where she embraces some superstitions with her left hand, she thrusts away more with her right. I have therefore principally made choice to write her life, that I may acquaint both myself and the reader with the garb of that age in Church-matters▪ wherein were many remarkable passages, otherwise I might and would have taken a fare fit example. I know two trades together are too much for one man to thrive upon, and too much it is for me to be an Historian and a critic, to relate and to judge: yet since Paula, though a gracious woman, was guilty of some great errors, give me leave to hold a pencil in one hand, and a sponge in the other, both to draw her life and dash it where it is faulty. And let us that live in purer times be thankful to God for our light, and use our quicker sight to guide our feet in God's paths, lest we reel from one extremity to another. To come to the Lady Paula's birth: the Noblest blood in the world by a confluence ran in her veins. I must confess the most Ancient nobility is junior to no nobility, when all men were equal. Yet give others leave to see Moses his face to shine, when he knew it not himself; and seeing Paula was pleased not to know, but to neglect and trample on her high birth, we are bound to take notice thereof. She was descended from * Hieron. Epist. ad Eustoch. pag. 185. Agamemnon, Scipio, and the Gracchis, and her husband Toxotius from * Idem in eadem epist. p. 172. Aeneas, and the Julian family; so that in their marriage the wars of the Grecians and trojans were reconciled. Some years they lived together in the city of Rome, in holy and happy wedlock, and to her husband she bore four daughters, Blesilla, Paulina, Eustochium, and Ruffina. Yet still her husband longed for posterity, like those who are so covetous of a male heir, they count none children but sons: and at last God, who keeps the best for the close, bestowed Toxotius, a young son upon her. But commonly after a great blessing comes a great cross: scarce was she made a mother to a son, when she was made a widow, which to her was a great and grievous affliction. But as a rub to an overthrown bowl proves an help by hindering it; so afflictions bring the souls of God's Saints to the mark, which otherwise would be gone and transported with too much earthly happiness. However Paula grieved little less then excessively hereat, she being a woman that in all her actions (to be sure to do enough) made always measure with advantage. Yet in time she overcame her sorrow, herein being assisted by the counsel and comfort of S. Jerome, whose constant frequenting of her, commented upon by his enemy's malice (which will pry narrowly and talk broadly) gave occasion to the report, that he accompanied with her for dishonest intents. Surely if the accusations of slanderous tongues be proofs, the primitive times had no Churches but stews. It is to be suspected that * Erasmus in scholia in epitaphium Paulae p. 193. ruffian his sworn enemy raised the report; and if the Lady Paula's memory wanted a compurgatour, I would be one myself, it being improbable that those her eyes would burn with lust which were constantly drowned with tears. But the reader may find S. Jerome purging * In epistola quae incipit, Si tibiputem, tom. 2. sol. 368. himself; and he who had his tongue and an innocent heart needed no body else to speak for him. It happened that the Bishops of the East and West were summoned by the * Hier●nym. Epist. praedict. pag. 172. Emperor's letters to appear at Rome for the according of some differences in the Church. (It seems by this that the Pope did not so command in chief at Rome, but that the power of congregating Synods still resided in the Emperor.) Hither came Paulinus Bishop of Antioch, and Epiphanius Bishop of Salamine in Cyprus, who lodged at the Lady Paula's, and his virtues so wrought upon her, that she determined to leave her native country, and to travel into the East, and in Judea to spend the remainder of her life. The reasons that moved her to remove, was because Rome was a place of riot and luxury, her soul being almost stifled with the frequency of Lady's visits; and she feared courtesy in her would justle out piety, she being fain to crowd up her devotions to make room for civil entertainments. Besides, of her own nature she ever loved privacy and a sequestered life, being of the pelican's nature, which use not to fly in flocks. Lastly, she conceived that the sight of those holy places would be the best comment on the History of the Bible, and fasten the passages thereof in her mind. Wherefore she intended to survey all Palestine, and at last to go to Bethlehem, making Christ's inn her home, and to die there where he was born, leaving three of her daughters, and her poor infant Toxotius behind her. For mine own part, I think she had done as acceptable a deed to God, in staying behind to rock her child in the cradle, as to visit Christ's manger, seeing Grace doth not cut of the affections of nature but ripen them: the rather, because Christianity is not nailed to Christ's cross and mount Calvary, nor Piety fastened (as we may say) to the freehold of the land of Palestine. But if any Papist make her a pattern for pilgrimages, let them remember that she went from Rome: and was it not an unnatural motion in her to move from that centre of sanctity? She with her daughter Eustochium began her journey, and taking Cyprus in her way, where she visited Epiphanius, she came at last to Judea. She measured that country with her travelling, and drew the truest map thereof with her own feet, so accurately that she left out no particular place of importance. At last she was fixed at Bethlehem, where she built one monastery for men, and three for women. It will be worth our pains to take notice of some principal of the orders she made in those feminine Academies; because Paula's practice herein was a leading case, though those that came after her went beyond her. For in the rules of monastical life, Paula stood at the head game, and the Papists in after ages, desirous to better her hand, drew themselves quite out. Each monastery had a chief matron, whilst Paula was principal over all. These societies were severed at their meat and work, but met together at their prayers: they were carefully kept apart from men, not like those Epicoene monasteries not long since invented by Joan Queen of Sweden, wherein men and women lived under one roof, not to speak of worse libertines. Well were nuns called Recluses, which according to the true meaning of the word signify those which are set wide open, or left at liberty, though that Barbarous age mistook the sense of the word, for such as were shut up, and might not stir out of their * Littleton fol. 92. cloister. They used to sing hallelujah, which served them both for a psalm, and a bell to call them all together. In the * Mane, horâ tertiâ, sextâ, nonâ, vesperi. Hieron. in praefat. Epist. p. 180. surely living in Palestine he meaneth the Jewish computation of hours. morning, at nine a clock, at noon, at three a clock in the afternoon, and at night they had prayers, and sang the psalms in order. This I believe gave original to canonical hours. The Apostles precept is the plain song, Pray continually; and thus men's inventions ran their descants upon it, and confined it to certain hours. A practice in itself not so bad for those who have leisure to observe it, save that when devotion is thus artificially plaited into hours it may take up men's minds in formalities to neglect the substance. They risen also at midnight to sing psalms. A custom begun before in the time of persecution, when the Christians were forced to be Antipodes to other men, so that when it was night with others, it was day with them, and they then began their devotions. These night-prayers, begun in necessity, were continued in Paula's time in grateful remembrance, and since corrupted with superstition: the best is, their rising at midnight breaks none of our sleep. These virgins did every day learn some part of the holy Scriptures; whereas those nuns which pretend to succeed them learn only with post-horses to run over the stage of their beads (so many Ave Maries, and Pater nosters) and are ignorant in all the Scripture besides. Such as were faulty, she caused to take their meat apart from others at the entrance of the dining-room; with which mild severity she reclaimed many: shame in ingenuous natures making a deeper impression than pain. Mean time I find amongst them no vow of virginity, no tyrannical Penance, no whipping themselves; as if not content to inter their sins in Christ's grave, they had rather bury them in furrows digged in their own backs. They wrought hard to get their living, and on the Lord's day alone went out of their monastery to hear God's word. Yet was she more rigid and severe towards herself, then to any of them, macerating her body with fasting, and refusing to drink any wine, when advised thereto by Physicians for her health. So that (as an * Bernard. devot. devotis holy man complained of himself, whilst he went about to subdue an enemy he killed a subject) she overturned the state of her body, and whilst she thought to snuff the candle put it quite out. Yea S. Jerome himself, what his Eloquence herein doth commend in her, his Charity doth excuse, and his Judgement doth * Haec refero, non quòd inconsideranter & ultra vires sumta onera probem, p. 181. condemn. But we must Charitably believe that these her fastings proceeded out of true humiliation and sorrow for her sins; otherwise where opinion of merit is annexed to them, they are good only to fill the body with wind, and the soul with pride. Certainly prodigious Popish self-penance is will-worship, and the purest epicurism, wherein pain is pleasant: for as long as people impose it on themselves, they do not deny their own will, but fulfil it; and whilst they beat down the body they may puff up the flesh. Nor can her immoderate bounty be excused, who gave all and more than all away, taking up money at interest to give to the poor, and leaving Eustochium her daughter deep in debt, a great charge, and nothing to maintain it. Sure none need be more bountiful in giving then the sun is in shining, which though freely bestowing his beams on the world keeps notwithstanding the body of light to himself. Yea it is necessary that Liberality should as well have banks as a stream. She was an excellent text-woman, yea could say the holy Scriptures by heart, and attained to understand and speak the Hebrew tongue, a language which Jerome himself got with great difficulty, and kept with constant use (skill in Hebrew will quickly go out, and burn no longer then 'tis blown) yet she in her old age did speedily learn it. She diligently heard Jerome expounding the old and new Testament, ask him many doubts, and Quaeres in difficult places (such constant scouring makes our knowledge brighter) and would not suffer his judgement to stand neuter in hard points, but made him express the probable opinion. Most naturally fly from death; God's Saints stand still till death comes to them; Paula went out to meet it, not to say, called death unto her by consuming herself in fasting: she died in the fifty sixth year of her age, and was solemnly buried in Bethlehem. People of all countries' flocked to her funeral: Bishops carried her corpse to the grave: others carried torches and lamps before it, which though some may condemn to be but burning of day was no more than needed, she being buried in a cave or grot as an * G. Sandys travels, pag. 179. eyewitness doth testify. Psalms were sung at her burial in the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Syriack tongue, it being fit there should be a key for every lock, and languages to be understood by all the miscellany company there present. Eustochium her daughter had little comfort to be Executrix or Administratrix unto her, leaving her not a penny of money, great debts, and many brothers and sisters to provide for, quos sustentare arduum, abjicere impium. I like not this charity reversed, when it gins fare off & neglects those at home. To conclude, I can do her memory no better right, then to confess she was wrong in somethings. Yet surely God's Glory was the mark she shot at, though herein the hand of her practice did sometimes shake, and oftener the eye of her judgement did take wrong aim. CHAP. 12. The constant Virgin IS one who hath made a resolution with herself to live chaste, and unmarried. Now there is a grand difference betwixt a Resolution and a Vow. The former is a covenant drawn up betwixt the party and herself; and commonly runs with this clause, durante nostro beneplacito, as long as we shall think fitting; and therefore on just occasion she may give a release to herself. But in a vow God is interested as the creditor, so that except he be pleased to give up the band, none can give an acquittance to themselves. Being now to describe the Virgin, let the reader know that virginity belongs to both sexes; and though in courtesy we make our Maid a female, let not my pen be challenged of impropriety, if casually sometimes it light on the Masculine Gender. She chooseth not a single life solely for its self, Maxim 1 but in reference to the better serving of God. I know none but beggars that desire the Church-Porch to lie in, which others only use as a passage into the Church. Virginity is none of those things to be desired in and for itself, but because it leads a more convenient way to the worshipping of God, especially in time of persecution. For then if Christians be forced to run races for their lives, the unmarried have the advantage, lighter by many ounces, and freed from much encumbrance, which the married are subject to; who, though private Persons, herein are like Princes, they must have their train follow them. She improveth her single life therewith to serve God the more constantly. 2 Housekeepers cannot so exactly mark all their family-affairs, but that sometimes their ranks will be broken; which disorder by necessary consequence will disturb their duties of piety, to make them contracted, omitted; or unseasonably performed. The Apostle saith, Such shall have troubles in the flesh; and grant them sanctified troubles, yet even Holy-thistle and Sweet-brier have their prickles. But the Virgin is freed from these encumbrances. No lording Husband shall at the same time command her presence and distance, to be always near in constant attendance, and always to stand aloof off in an awful observance; so that providing his breakfast hazards her soul to fast a meal of morning prayer: No crying Children shall drown her singing of psalms, and put her devotion out of tune: No unfaithful Servants shall force her to divide her eyes betwixt lifting them up to God and casting them down to oversee their work; but making her Closet her chapel, she freely enjoyeth God and good thoughts at what time she pleaseth. 3 Yet in all her discourse she maketh an honourable mention of marriage. And good reason that virginity should pay a chief rent of honour unto it, as acknowledging herself to be a colonia deducta from it. Unworthy is the practice of those who in their discourse plant all their arguments point-blank to batter down the married estate, bitterly inveighing against it; yea base is the behaviour of some young men, who can speak nothing but satyrs against God's ordinance of Matrimony, and the whole sex of women. This they do either out of deep dissimulation, to divert suspicion, that they may pray the farthest from their holes; or else they do it out of revenge: having themselves formerly lighted on bad women (yet no worse than they deserved) they curse all adventures because of their own shipwreck; or lastly they do it out of mere spite to nature and God himself: and pity it is but that their fathers had been of the same opinion. Yet it may be tolerable if only in harmless mirth they chance to bestow a jest upon the follies of married people. Thus when a Gentlewoman told an ancient bachelor who looked very young, that she thought he had eaten a snake; No mistress (said he) it is because I never meddled with any snakes which maketh me look so young. 4 She counts herself better lost in a modest silence then found in a bold discourse. Divinity permits not women to speak in the Church; morality forbids maids to talk in the House, where their betters are present. She is fare from the humours of those, who (more bridling in their chins then their tongues) love in their constant prating to make sweet music to their own ears, and harsh jarring to all the rest of the company: yea as some report of sheep, that when they run they are afraid of the noise of their own feet; so our Virgin is afraid to hear her own tongue run in the presence of graver persons. She conceives the bold maintaining of any argument concludes against her own civil behaviour; and yet she will give a good account of any thing whereof she is questioned, sufficient to show her silence is her choice, not her refuge. In speaking she studiously avoids all suspicious expressions, which wanton apprehensions may colourably comment into obscenity. She blusheth at the wanton discourse of others in her company. 5 As fearing that being in the presence where treason against modesty is spoken, all in the place will be arraigned for principals: yea if silent, she is afraid to be taken to consent; if offering to confute it, she fears lest by stirring a dunghill, the savour may be more noisome. Wherefore that she may not suffer in her title to modesty, to preserve her right she enters a silent caveat by a blush in her cheeks, and embraceth the next opportunity to get a gaole-delivery out of that company where she was detained in durance. Now because we have mentioned Blushing, which is so frequent with virgins that it is called a maiden's blush, (as if they alone had a patent to die this colour) give us leave a little to enlarge ourselves on this subject. 1 Blushing oftentimes proceeds from guiltiness; when the offender being pursued after seeks as it were to hid himself under the vizard of a new face. 2 Blushing is othertimes rather a compurgatour then an accuser; not arising from guiltiness in our Virgin, but from one of these reasons: First because she is surprised with a sudden accusation, and though armed with innocency, that she cannot be pierced, yet may she be amazed with so unexpected a charge. Secondly from sensibleness of disgrace, ashamed, though innocent, to be within the suspicion of such faults, and that she hath carried herself so that any tongue durst be so impudent as to lay it to her charge. Thirdly from a disability to acquit herself at the instant (her integrity wanting rather clearing then clearness) and perchance she wants boldness to traverse the action, and so non-suiting herself, she fears her cause will suffer in the judgements of all that be present: and although accused but in jest, she is jealous the accusation will be believed in earnest; and edged tools thrown in merriment may wound reputations. Fourthly out of mere anger: for as in fear the blood makes not an orderly retreat but a confused flight to the heart; so in blushing the blood sallies out into our virgin's cheeks, and seems as a champion to challenge the accuser for wronging her. 3 Where small faults are committed blushing obtains a pardon of course with ingenuous beholders. As if she be guilty of casual incivilities, or soloecismes in manners occasioned by invincible ignorance, and unavoidable mistakes, in such a case blushing is a sufficient penance to restore her to her state of innocence. 6 She imprisons not herself with a solemn vow never to marry. For first, none know their own strength herein. Who hath sailed about the world of his own heart, sounded each creek, surveied each corner, but that still there remains therein much terra incognita to himself? Junius, at the first little better than a * junius in his life writ by himself. Misogynist, was afterwards so altered from himself, that he successively married four wives. Secondly, fleshly corruption being penned will swell the more, and Shemei being confined to Jerusalem will have the greater mind to gad to Gath. Thirdly, the devil will have a fairer set mark to shoot at, and will be most busy to make people break their vow. Fourthly, God may justly desert people for snatching that to themselves, which is most proper for him to give, I mean, Continency. Object not, that thou wilt pray to him to take from thee all desire of marriage, it being madness to vow that one will not eat, and then pray to God that he may not be hungry. Neither say that now thou may'st presume on thyself, because thou art well stricken in years, for there may happen an autume-spring in thy soul; and lust is an unmannerly guest, we know not how late in the evening of our lives it may intrude into us for a lodging. She counts it virginity to be unspotted, not unmarried. 7 Or else even in old age, when nature hath given an inhibition, they may be strong in desiring who are weak in acting of wickedness; yea they may keep stews in their hearts, and be so pregnant and ingravidated with lustful thoughts, that they may as it were die in travail because they cannot be delivered. And though there be no fire seen outwardly; as in the English chimneys, it may be hotter within, as in the Dutch stoves; and as well the devils as the Angels in heaven, neither marry nor are given in marriage. As she lives with less care, 8 so she dies with more cheerfulness. Indeed she was rather a sojourner, than an inhabitant in this world, and therefore forsakes it with the less grief. In a word, the way to heaven is alike narrow to all estates, but fare smother to the Virgin then to the married. Now the great advantage Virgins have to serve God above others, & high favours he hath bestowed on some of them, shall appear in this Virgin prophetess, whose life we come to present. HILDEGARDIS a Virgin Prophetess Abbess of St Ruperts Nunnerye. She died at Bingen Aᵒ Do: 1180. Aged 82 years. W. Martial sculpsit. CHAP. 13. The life of HILDEGARDIS. HIldegardis was born in Germany, in the County of Spanheim, in the year 1098. So that she lived in an age which we may call the first cock-crowing after the midnight of Ignorance and Superstition. Her parents (Hidebert, and Mechtilda) dedicated her to God from her infancy: And surely those whose Childhood, with Hildegardis, hath had the advantage of pious education may be said to have been good time out of mind, as not able to remember the beginning of their own goodness. At eight years of age she became a nun under S. Jutta sister to Megenhard, Earl of Spanheim, and afterwards she was made abbess of S. rupert's Nunnery in Bingen on Rhine in the Palatinate. Men commonly do beat and bruise their links before they light them, to make them burn the brighter: God first humbles and afflicts whom he intends to illuminate with more than ordinary grace. Poor Hildegardis was constantly and continually sick, and so * Fuerunt ei ab ipsa penè infantia crebri ac ferè continui languorum dolores, ità ut pedum incessu petraro uteretur, Theod. Abbas in vita Hildegardis, lib. 1. cap. 2. weak that she very seldom was strong enough to go. But God who denied her legs, gave her wings, and raised her high-mounted soul in Visions and Revelations. I know a general scandal is cast on Revelations in this ignorant age: first, because many therein entitled the Meteors of their own brain to be stars at least, and afterwards their Revelations have been revealed to be forgeries: secondly, because that night-raven did change his black feathers into the silver wings of a dove, and transforming himself into an Angel of light deluded many with strange raptures and visions, though in their nature fare different from those in the Bible. For S. Paul in his Revelations was caught up into the third heaven; whereas most Monks with a contrary motion were carried into hell and purgatory, and there saw apparitions of strange torments. Also S. john's Revelation forbids all additions to the Bible, under heavy penalties; their visions are commonly on purpose to piece out the Scripture, and to establish such superstitions as have no footing in God's word. However all held Hildegardis for a Prophet, being induced thereunto by the piety of her life: no breck was ever found in her veil, so spotless was her conversation; by the sanctity of her writings, and by the general approbation the Church gave unto her. For Pope Eugenius the third, after exact examination of the matter, did in the council of Trevers (wherein S. Bernard was present) allow and privilege her Revelations for authentical. She was of the Pope's Conclave, and Emperor's Counsel, to whom they had recourse in difficulties: yea the greatest torches of the Church lighted themselves at her candle. The Patriach of Jerusalem, the Bishops of Mentz, Colen, Breme, Trevers sent such knots as posed their own fingers to our Hildegardis to untie. She never learned word of Latin; and yet * Trithemius de Scriptor. Eccles. fol. 92. therein would she fluently express her Revelations to those notaries that took them from her mouth; so that throwing words at random she never broke Priscian's head: as if the Latin had learned to make itself true without the speakers care. And no doubt, he that brought the single parties to her married them also in her mouth, so that the same Spirit which furnished her with Latin words, made also the true Syntaxis. Let none object that her very writing of fifty eight Homilies on the Gospel is false construction, where the feminine Gender assumes an employment proper to men: for though S. Paul silenceth women for speaking in the Church, I know no Scripture forbids them from writing on Scripture. Such infused skill she had also of music, whereof she was naturally ignorant, and wrote a whole book of verses very good according to those times. Indeed in that age the trumpet of the warlike Heroick, and the sweet harp of the lyric verse, were all turned into the gingling of cymbals, tinkling with rhythmes, and like-sounding cadencies. But let us hear a few lines of her Prophecies, and thence guess the rest. In those days there shall rise up a people without understanding, proud, covetous, and deceitful, the which shall eat the sins of the people, holding a certain order of foolish devotion under the feigned cloak of beggary. Also they shall instantly preach without devotion or example of the holy Martyrs, and shall detract from the secular Princes, taking away the Sacraments of the Church from the true pastors, receiving alms of the poor, having familiarity with women, instructing them how they shall deceive their husbands, and rob their husbands to give it unto them, * See much more to this purpose in catalogue. Testium veritatis in Hildegard●: Also in F●●es Acts and monuments, p. 461. etc. What could be said more plain to draw out to the life those Mendicant friars (rogues by God's statutes) which afterwards swarmed in the world. Hear also how she foretold the low water of Tiber, whilst as yet it was full tied there. The Kings and other Rulers of the world, being stirred up by the just judgement of God, shall set themselves against them, and run upon them, saying, We will not have these men to reign over us with their rich houses, and great possessions, and other worldly riches, over the which we are ordained to be Lords and Rulers: and how is it meet or comely that those shavelings with their stoles and chesils should have more soldiers or richer armour and artillery than we? wherefore let us take away from them what they do not justly but wrongfully possess. It is well the Index expurgatorius was not up in those days, nor the Inquisition on foot, otherwise dame Hildegardis must have been called to an after account. I will only ask a Romanist this question, This prophecy of Hildegardis, was it from heaven or from men? If from heaven, why did ye not believe it? If from men, why did the Pope allow it, & canonize her? As for miracles, which she wrought in her life time, their number is as admirable as their nature. I must confess at my first reading * In Liponian. in vitis Sanct. Tom. 5 fol. 91. & sequen. of them, my belief digested some, but surfeited on the rest: for she made no more to cast out a devil, than a barber to draw a tooth, and with less pain to the patiented. I never heard of a great feast made all of cordials: and it seems improbable that miracles (which in Scripture are used sparingly, and chief for conversion of unbelievers) should be heaped so many together, made every day's work, and by her commonly, constantly, and ordinarily, wrought. And I pray why is the Popish Church so barren of true works nowadays here wrought at home amongst us? For as for those reported to be done fare of, it were ill for some if the gold from the Indies would abide the touch no better than the miracles. However Hildegardis was a gracious Virgin, and God might perform some great wonders by her hand; but these piae frauds with their painting have spoilt the natural complexion of many a good face, and have made Truth itself suspected. She died in the 82. year of her age, was afterwards Sainted by the Pope, and the 17 day of September assigned to her memory. I cannot forget how Udalrick abbot of Kempten in Germany made a most * Bruschius' Demonaster. & Centuriatores, Centur. 11. Col. 350. courteous law for the weaker sex, That no woman, guilty of what crime soever, should ever be put to death in his dominions, because two women condemned to die were miraculously delivered out of the prison by praying to S. Hildegardis. CHAP. 14. The Elder Brother IS one who made haste to come into the world to bring his Parents the first news of male-posterity, and is well rewarded for his tidings. His composition is then accounted most precious when made of the loss of a double virginity. Maxim 1 He is thankful for the advantage God gave him at the starting in the race into this world. When twins have been even matched, one hath gained the goal but by his length. S. * Questionibus ex utroque mix●im Tom. 40 Col. 874. Augustine saith, That it is every man's bounden duty solemnly to celebrate his birthday. If so, Elder Brothers may best afford good cheer on the festival. He counts not his inheritance a Writ of ease to free him from industry: 2 As if only the Younger Brothers came into the world to work, the Elder to compliment. These are the tops of their houses indeed, like cotlofts, highest and emptiest. Rather he laboureth to furnish himself with all gentile accomplishment, being best able to go to the cost of learning. He need not fear to be served as Ulrick Fugger was (chief of the noble family of the Fuggers in Auspurg) who was disinherited of a great patrimony only for his * Thua●. de obit. vi●. do. l. in Ann. 1584. studiousness, and expensiveness in buying costly Manuscripts. He doth not so remember he is an heir, 3 that he forgets he is a son. Wherefore his carriage to his Parents is always respectful. It may chance that his father may be kept in a charitable Prison, whereof his son hath the keys; the old man being only Tenant for life, and the lands entailed on our young Gentleman. In such a case when it is in his power, if necessity requires, he enlargeth his father to such a reasonable proportion of liberty as may not be injurious to himself. He rather desires his father's Life then his Living. 4 This was one of the principal reasons (but God knows how true) why Philip the second, King of Spain, caused in the year 1568. Charles his Eldest son to be executed for plotting his father's death, as was pretended. And a * Op●rerus was the author thereof: Famianus Strada de bello Belg●ro lib. 7. pag. 432. Wit in such difficult toys accommodated the numeral letters in Ovid's verse to the year wherein the Prince suffered. FILIVs ante DIeM patrIos InqVIrIt In annos. 1568. Before the tIMe, the overhasty son Seeks forth how near the father's LIfe Is Done. 1568. But if they had no better evidence against him but this poetical Synchronisme, we might well count him a martyr. 5 His father's deeds and grants he ratifies and confirms. If a stitch be fallen in a lease, he will not widen it into an hole by cavilling, till the whole strength of the grant run out thereat; or take advantage of the default of the clerk in writing where the deed appears really done, and on a valuable consideration: He counts himself bound in honour to perform what by marks and signs he plainly understands his father meant, though he spoke it not out. 6 He reflecteth his lustre to grace and credit his younger brethren. Thus Scipio Africanus, after his great victories against the Carthaginians and conquering of Hannibal, was content to serve as a * Plutar. in the life of Scipio. Lieutenant in the wars of Asia, under Lucius Scipio his younger Brother. 7 He relieveth his distressed kindred, yet so as he continues them in their calling. Otherwise they would all make his house their hospital, his kindred their calling. When one being an Husbandman challenged kindred of Robert Grosthead Bishop of Lincoln, and thereupon requested favour of him to bestow an office on him, cousin (quoth the Bishop) if your cart be broken, I'll mend it; if your plough old, I'll give you a new one, and seed to sow your land: but an Husbandman I found you, and an Husbandman I'll leave you. It is better to ease poor kindred in their Profession, then to ease them from their Profession. 8 He is careful to support the credit and dignity of his family: neither wasting his paternal estate by his unthriftiness, nor marring it by parcelling his ancient manors and demesnes amongst his younger children, whom he provides for by annuities, pensions, moneys, leases, and purchased lands. He remembers how when our King Alfred divided the river of Lee (which parts Hartfordshire and Essex) into three streams, it became so shallow that boats could not row, where formerly ships did ride. Thus the ancient family of the Woodfords (which had long continued in Leicestershire and elsewhere in England in great account, estate and livelihood) is at this day quite extinct. For when Sr. Thomas Woodford in the reign of King Henry the sixth made almost an even partition of his means betwixt his five grandchilds, the House in short space utterly decayed; not any part of his lands now in the * Burton in his descrip. of Leicestershire, p. 264. tenure or name of any of his male line, some whereof lived to be brought to a low ebb of fortune. Yet on the other side to leave all to the eldest, and make no provision for the rest of their children, is against all rules of religion, forgetting their Christian-name to remember their surname. CHAP. 15. The Younger Brother. SOme account him the better Gentleman of the two, because son to the more ancient Gentleman. Wherein his Elder Brother can give him the hearing, and a smile into the bargain. He shares equally with his Elder Brother in the education, but differs from him in his portion, and though he giveth also his father's arms, yet to use the Herauld's language, he may say, This to my Elder Brother I must yield, I have the Charge but he hath all the Field. Like herein to a young nephew of Tarquin's in Rome, who was called * Livi. lib. 1. Egereus, from wanting of maintenance, because his Grandfather left him nothing. It was therefore a mannerly answer which a young Gentleman gave to King James, when he asked him what kin he was to such a Lord of his name: Please your majesty (said he) my Elder Brother is his cousin german. Maxim 1 He repines not at the Providence of God in ordering his birth. Heirs are made, even where matches are, both in heaven. Even in twins God will have one next the door to come first into the world. 2 He labours by his endeavours to date himself an Elder Brother. Nature makes but one; Industry doth make all the sons of the same man Heirs. The fourth Brother gives a Martilet for the difference of his arms: a bird * Gerard Leigh in his 9 differences of brother's arms. observed to build either in Castles, Steeples, or Ships; showing that the bearer hereof, being debarred from all hopes of his father's inheritance, must seek by war, learning, or merchandise to advance his estate. 3 In war he cuts out his fortunes with his own sword. William the conqueror, when he first landed his forces in England, burned all his ships; that despair to return might make his men the more valiant. Younger Brothers, being cut off at home from all hopes, are more zealous to purchase an honourable support abroad. Their small Arteries with great Spirits have wrought miracles, & their resolution hath driven success before it. Many of them have adventured to cheapen dear enterprises, & were only abel to pay the earnest, yet fortune hath accepted them for chapmen, and hath freely forgiven them the rest of the payment for their boldness. 4 Nor are they less happy if applying themselves to their book. Nature generally giving them good wits, which because they want room to burnish may the better afford to soar high. 5 But he gaineth more wealth if betaking himself to merchandise. Whence often he riseth to the greatest annual honour in the kingdom. Many families in England though not first raised from the City, yet thence have been so restored and enriched that it may seem to amount to an original raising. Neither doth an apprenticeship extinguish native, nor disinable to acquisitive Gentry; and they are much mistaken who hold it to be in the nature of bondage. For first, his indenture is a civil contract, whereof a bondman is uncapable: secondly, no work can be base prescribed in reference to a noble end, as theirs is that learn an honest mystery to enable them for the service of God and the country: thirdly, they give round sums of money to be bound. Now if apprenticeship be a servitude, it is either a pleasing bondage, or strange madness to purchase it at so dear a rate. Gentry therefore may be suspended perchance, & asleep during the apprenticeship, but it awakens afterwards. Sometimes he raiseth his estate by applying himself to the Court. 6 A pasture wherein Elder Brothers are observed to grow lean, and Younger Brothers fat. The reasons whereof may be these. 1 Younger Brothers, being but slender in estate, are easier bowed to a Court-complyance then Elder Brothers, who stand more stiff on their means, and think scorn to crave what may be a Prince's pleasure to grant, and their profit to receive. 2 They make the Court their calling, and study the mystery thereof, whilst Elder Brothers, divided betwixt the Court and the country, can have their endeavours deep in neither, which run in a double channel. 3 Elder Brothers spend highly in proportion to their estates, expecting afterwards a return with increase, which notwithstanding never pays the principal: and whilst they thus build so stately a staircase to their preferment, the Younger Brothers get up by the back stairs in a private silent way, little expense being expected from them that have little. Sometimes he lighteth on a wealthy match to advance him. 7 If meeting with one that is Pilot of her own affections, to steer them without guidance of her friends, and such as disdaineth her marriage should be contracted in an exchange, where jointure must weigh every grain even to the portion. Rather she counts it an act both of love and charity to affect one rich in deserts, who commonly hath the advantage of birth, as she hath of means, and so it's made level betwixt them. And thus many a young Gentleman hath gotten honourable maintenance by an heiress, especially when the crying of the child hath caused the laughing of the father. 8 His means the more hardly gotten are the more carefully kept. Heat gotten by degrees, with motion and exercise, is more natural and stays longer by one, than what is gotten all at once by coming to the fire. Goods acquired by industry prove commonly more lasting than lands by descent. 9 He ever owneth his Elder Brother with dutiful respect: yea though God should so bless his endeavours as to go beyond him in wealth and honour. The pride of the Jesuits is generally taxed, who being the youngest of all other Orders, and therefore by canon to go last, will never go in * Vid. Preface to the Jesuites Catechism. Procession with other Orders, because they will not come behind them. 10 Sometimes the paternal inheritance falls to them who never hoped to rise to it. Thus John, surnamed Sans-terre, or, Without land, having five Elder Brothers came to the kingdom of England, death levelling those which stood betwixt him and the Crown. It is observed of the * Carew Survey of Cornwall, fol. 117. Coringtons, an ancient family in Cornwall, that for eight lineal descents never any one that was born heir had the land, but it ever fell to Younger Brothers. To conclude, there is a hill in Voitland (a small country in Germany) called Feitchtelberg, out of which arise four rivers running four several ways, viz. 1. Eger, East, 2. Menus, West, 3. Sala, North, & 4. Nabus, South: so that he that sees their fountains so near together would admire at their falls so fare asunder. Thus the younger sons issuing out of the same mother's womb and father's loins, and afterwards embracing different courses to try their fortunes abroad in the world, chance often to die fare off, at great distance, which were all born in the same place. The Holy State. THE SECOND BOOK. CHAP. 1. The good * We take it promiscuously for Civil or Common Lawyer. Advocate. HE is one that will not plead that cause, wherein his tongue must be confuted by his conscience. It is the praise of the Spanish soldier, that (whilst all other Nations are mercenary, and for money will serve on any side) he will never fight against his own King: nor will our Advocate against the sovereign Truth, plainly appearing to his conscience. He not only hears but examines his Client, Maxim 1 and pincheth the cause, where he fears it is foundered. For many Clients in telling their case rather plead then relate it, so that the Advocate hears not the true state of it, till opened by the adverse party. Surely the Lawyer that fills himself with instructions will travel longest in the cause without tiring. Others that are so quick in searching, seldom search to the quick; and those miraculous apprehensions who understand more than all, before the Client hath told half, run without their errand, and will return without their answer. If the matter be doubtful, 2 he will only warrant his own diligence. Yet some keep an Assurance-office in their chamber, and will warrant any cause brought unto them, as knowing that if they fail they lose nothing but what long since was lost, their credit. 3 He makes not a Trojan-siege of a suit, but seeks to bring it to a set battle in a speedy trial. Yet sometimes suits are continued by their difficulty, the potency and stomach of the parties, without any default in the Lawyer. Thus have there depended suits in * Cambdens' Br●t. in Glocest. Gloucestershire, betwixt the Heirs of the Lord Barkley, and Sr. Thomas Talbot Viscount Lisle, ever since the reign of King Edward the fourth until now lately they were finally compounded. 4 He is faithful to the side that first retains him. Not like * Plutarch. in vita Demosth. Demosthenes, who secretly wrote one oration for Phormio, and another in the same matter for Apolidorus his adversary. 5 In pleading he shoots fairly at the head of the cause, and having fastened, no frowns nor favours shall make him let go his hold. Not snatching aside here and there, to no purpose, speaking little in much, as it was said of Anaximenes, That he had a flood of words, and a drop of reason. His boldness riseth or falleth as he apprehends the goodness or badness of his cause. 6 He joys not to be retained in such a suit, where all the right in question, is but a drop blown up with malice to be a bubble. Wherefore in such trivial matters he persuades his Client to sound a retreat, and make a composition. 7 When his name is up, his industry is not down, thinking to plead not by his study but his credit. Commonly Physicians like beer are best when they are old, & Lawyers like bread when they are young and new. But our Advocate grows not lazy. And if a leading case be out of the road of his practice, he will take pains to trace it thorough his books, and prick the footsteps thereof wheresoever he finds it. 8 He is more careful to deserve, then greedy to take fees. He accounts the very pleading of a poor widows honest cause sufficient fees, as conceiving himself then the King of heaven's Advocate, bound ex officio to prosecute it. And although some may say that such a Lawyer may even go live in Cornwall, where it is * Carew Sur. of Cornwall, fol. 60. observed that few of that profession hitherto have grown to any great livelihood, yet shall he (besides those two felicities of * Coke in h●s Preface to Littleton's tenors. common Lawyers, that they seldom die either without heirs or making a will) find God's blessing on his provisions and posterity. We will respite him a while till he comes to be a Judge, and then we will give an example of both together. CHAP. 2. The good Physician. HE trusteth not the single witness of the water if better testimony may be had. Maxim 1 For reasons drawn from the urine alone are as brittle as the urinal. Sometimes the water runneth in such posthaste through the sick man's body, it can give no account of any thing memorable in the passage, though the most judicious eye examine it. Yea the sick man may be in the state of death, and yet life appear in his state. Coming to his patient he persuades him to put his trust in God the fountain of health. 2 The neglect hereof hath caused the bad success of the best Physicians: for God will manifest that though skill comes mediately from him to be gotten by man's pains, success comes from him immediately to be disposed at his pleasure. He ●ansells not his new experiments on the bodies of his patients; 3 letting lose mad receipts into the sick man's body, to try how well Nature in him will fight against them, whilst himself stands by and sees the battle, except it be in desperate cases when death must be expelled by death. To poor people he prescribes cheap but wholesome medicines: 4 not removing the consumption out of their bodies into their purses; nor sending them to the East Indies for drugs, when they can reach better out of their gardens. 5 Lest his Apothecary should oversee, he oversees his Apothecary. For though many of that profession be both able and honest, yet some out of ignorance or haste may mistake: witness one of Bloys, * Stephen's Apology fol Herodotus, lib. 1. cap. 16. who being to serve a doctors bill, in stead of Optimi (short written) read Opii, and had sent the patiented asleep to his grave, if the doctors watchfulness had not prevented him; worse are those who make wilful errors, giving one thing for another. A prodigal who had spent his estate was pleased to jeer himself, boasting that he had cozened those who had bought his means; They gave me (said he) good new money, and I sold them my Great-great-grandfathers old land. But this cozenage is too too true in many Apothecaries, selling to sick folk for new money antiquated drugs, and making dying men's physic of dead ingredients. 6 He brings not news with a false spy that the coast is clear till death surprises the sick man. I know Physicians love to make the best of their patient's estate. First 'tis improper that Adjutores vitae should be Nuncii mortis. Secondly, none, with their good will, will tell bad news. Thirdly, their fee may be the worse for't. Fourthly, 'tis a confessing that their art is conquered. Fifthly, it will poison their patient's heart with grief, and make it break before the time. However they may so order it, that the party may be informed of his dangerous condition, that he be not outed of this world before he be provided for another. 7 When he can keep life no longer in, he makes a fair & easy passage for it to go out. He giveth his attendance for the facilitating and assuaging of the pains and agonies of death. Yet generally 'tis death to a Physician to be with a dying man. Unworthy pretenders to physic are rather foils then stains to the Profession. 8 Such a one was that counterfeit, who called himself The Baron of * Stows Survey of London. pag. 55. blackamoor, and feigned he was sent from the Emperor to our young King Henry the sixth, to be his principal Physician: but his forgery being discovered, he was apprehended, and executed in the Tower of London, Anno 1426. and such the world daily swarms with. Well did the Poets feign Aesculapius and Circe, brother and sister, and both children of the sun: for in all times in the opinion of the multitude, witches, old women, and impostors have had a competition with Physicians. And commonly the most ignorant are the most confident in their undertake, and will not stick to tell you what disease the gall of a dove is good to cure. He took himself to be no mean doctor, who being guilty of no Greek, and being demanded why it was called an Hectic fever; because (saith he) of an hecking cough which ever attendeth that disease. And here it will not be amiss to describe the life of the famous Quacksalver Paracelsus, both because it is not ordinarily to be met with, and that men may see what a monster many make a miracle of learning, and propound him their pattern in their practice. Physic Proffessor● at Basil. Philip Theophrastus PARACELSUS He died at Saltzburge Ano. Dom: 1540 aged 47 years. W. Martial sculprit. CHAP. 3. The life of PARACELSUS. PHilip Theophrastus Bombastus of Hoenhaim, or Paracelsus, born as he saith himself in the wilderness of Helvetia, Anno 1493. of the noble and ancient family of the Hoenhaims. But Thomas Erastus making strict enquiry after his pedigree found none of his name or kindred in that place. Yet it is fit so great a chemist should make himself to be of noble extraction: And let us believe him to be of high descent, as perchance born on some mountain in Switzerland. As for his Education, he himself * In praefatione Chiru●giae magnae. boasts that he lived in most Universities of Europe; surely rather as a traveller then a student, and a vagrant than a traveller. Yea some will not allow him so much, and * Sennertus de ●hymicorum consensu, cap. 4. pag. 35. one who hath exactly measured the length of his life, though crowding his pretended travels very close, finds not room enough for them. But 'tis too ridiculous what a * Bickerus in Hermete redivivo. Scholar of his relates, that he lived ten years in Arabia to get learning, and conversed in Greece with the Athenian Philosophers. Whereas in that age Arabia the Happy was accursed with barbarism, and Athens grown a stranger to herself; both which places being then subjected to the Turks, the very ruins of all learning were ruined there. Thus we see how he better knew to act his part, then to lay his Scene, and had not Chronologie enough to tell the clock of time, when and where to place his lies to make them like truth. The first five & twenty years of his age he lived very civilly; being thirty years old he came to Basill, just at the alteration of Religion, when many Papists were expelled the University, and places rather wanted professors, than professors places. Here by the favour of Oecolampadius he was admitted to read physic, & for two years behaved himself fairly, till this accident caused his departure. A rich * Bezoldus consideratione vitae & mort. p. 76. ex Andraea Jocisio. Canon of Basill being sick promised Paracelsus an hundred florins to recover him, which being restored to his health he denied to pay. Paracelsus sues him, is cast in his suit, the Magistrate adjudging him only an ordinary fee, because the cure was done presently with a few pills. The Physician enraged hereat talked treason against the State in all his discourses, till the nimbleness of his tongue forced the nimbleness of his feet, and he was fain to fly into Alsatia. Here keeping company with the Gentry of the country, he gave himself over to all licentiousness: His body was the sea wherein the tide of drunkenness was ever ebbing and flowing; for by putting his finger in his throat he used to spew out his drink and drunkenness together, and from that instant date himself sober to return to his cups again. Every month he had a new suit, not for pride but necessity; his apparel serving both for wearing and bedding: and having given his clothes many vomits, he gave them to the poor. Being Codrus over night, he would be Croesus in the morning, flush of money as if he carried the invisible Indies in his pocket: some suspected the devil was his pursebearer, and that he carried a spirit in the pommel of his sword his constant companion, whilst others maintain that by the heat of the furnace he could ripen any metal into gold. All the diet he prescribed his patients was this, to eat what, and how often, they thought fitting themselves, and yet he did most strange cures. Like the quicksilver (he so much dealt with) he would never be fixed in one place, or live any where longer than a twelvemonth: for some observe that by that time the maladies reverted again, which he formerly cured. He gave so strong physic as summoned Nature with all her force to expel the present disease, but the remnant dregs thereof afterwards reinforcing themselves did assault Nature tired out with the violence of her former task, and easily subdued it. His Scholars brag that the fragments of his learning would feast all the Philosophers in the world, boasting that the gout, the disgrace of physic, was the honour of Paracelsus, who by curing it removed that scandal from his profession: whereas others say he had little Learning, and less Latin. When any asked him the name of an herb he knew not, he would tell them there was no * Beroldus ut priùs, pag. 77. use thereof in physic; and yet this man would undertake not only to cure men, but to cure the Art of curing men, and reform physic itself. As for his religion, it would as well pose himself as others to tell what it was. He boasted that shortly he would order Luther and the Pope, as well as he had done Galen and Hypocrates. He was never seen to pray, and seldom came to Church. He was not only skilled in natural magic (the utmost bounds whereof border on the suburbs of hell) but is charged to converse constantly with familiars. Guilty he was of all vices but wantonness; and I find an * Oporinus in Epist. de Paracel●o. honest man his Compurgatour, that he was not given to women; perchance he drank himself into wantonness and past it, quenching the fire of his lust by piling fuel too hard and fast upon it. Boasting that he could make a man immortal, he himself died at forty seven years in the City of Saltzburg. His Scholars say he was poisoned through the envy (that dark shadow ever waiting on a shining merit) and malice of his adversaries. However his body should have been so fenced with antidotes, that the battery of no poison might make a breach therein; except we impute it more to his neglect then want of skill, and that rather his own security than his enemy's malice brought him to his grave. But it may be he was willing to die, counting a twelvemoneths' time enough to stay in one place, and forty seven years long enough to live in one world. We may more admire that so beastly a drunkard lived so long, then that so skilful a man died so soon. In a word, He boasted of more than he could do, did more cures seemingly then really, more cures really then lawfully; of more parts than learning, of more fame than parts; a better Physician than a man, and a better Chirurgeon than Physician. CHAP. 4. The controversial Divine. HE is truth's Champion to defend her against all adversaries, Atheists, heretics, schismatics, and Erroneous persons whatsoever. His sufficiency appears in Opposing, Answering, Moderating, and Writing. Maxim 1 He engageth both his judgement, and affections in opposing of falsehood. Not like country Fencers, who play only to make sport, but like Duellers indeed, at it for life and limb; chief if the question be of large prospect, and great concern, he is zealous in the quarrel. Yet some, though their judgement weigh down on one side, the beam of their affections stands so even, they care not which part prevails. 2 In opposing a truth, he dissembles himself her foe, to be her better friend. Wherefore he counts himself the greatest conqueror when Truth hath taken him captive. With Joseph having sufficiently sifted the matter in a disguise, he discovereth himself, * Gen. 45.4. I am Joseph your brother, and then throws away his vizard. Dishonest they, who though the debt be satisfied will never give up the bond, but continue wrangling, when the objection is answered. 3 He abstains from all foul and railing language. What? make the Muses, yea the grace's scolds? Such purulent spittle argues exulcerated lungs. Why should there be so much railing about the body of Christ? when there was none about the body of Moses in the Act kept betwixt the devil and Michael the Archangel. 4 He tyrannizeth not over a weak and undermatched Adversary; but seeks rather to cover his weakness if he be a modest man. When a professor pressed an Answerer (a better Christian then a Clerk) with an hard argument, Reverend Professor (said he) ingenue confiteor me non posse respondere huic argumento. To whom the professor, Recte respondes. In answering he states the question, and expoundeth the terms thereof. 5 Otherwise the disputants shall end, where they ought to have begun, in differences about words, and be Barbarians each to other, speaking in a Language neither understand. If the Question also be of historical cognizanse, he shows the pedigree thereof, who first brewed it, who first broached it, and sends the wand'ring error with a passport home to the place of its birth. In taking away an objection he not only puts by the thrust, 6 but breaks the weapon. Some rather escape then defeat an argument, and though by such an evasion they may shut the mouth of the Opponent, yet may they open the difficulty wider in the hearts of the hearers. But our Answerer either fairly resolves the doubt; or else shows the falseness of the argument, by beggering the Opponent to maintain such a fruitful generation of absurdities, as his argument hath begotten; or lastly returns and retorts it back upon him again. The first way unties the knot; the second cuts it asunder; the third whips the Opponent with the knot himself tied. Sure 'tis more honour to be a clear Answerer, than a cunning Opposer, because the latter takes advantage of man's ignorance, which is ten times more than his knowledge. What his answers want in suddenness they have in solidity. 7 Indeed the speedy answer adds lustre to the disputation, and honour to the disputant; yet he makes good payment, who though he cannot presently throw the money out of his pocket, yet will pay it, if but going home to unlock his chest. Some that are not for speedy may be for sounder performance. When Melanchthon at the disputation of Ratisbon was pressed with a shrewd argument by Ecchius, I will answer thee, said he, to morrow. Nay, said Ecchius, do it now or it's nothing worth. Yea, said Melanchthon, I seek the Truth, and not mine own Credit, and therefore it will be as good if I answer thee to * Melchior Adam. in vitis Germ. Theolog. p. 339. morrow by God's assistance. 8 In moderating he sides with the Answerer, if the Answerer sides with the truth. But if he be conceited, & opinioned of his own sufficiency, he lets him swoon before he gives him any hot water. If a Paradox-monger, loving to hold strange yea dangerous Opinions, he counts it charity to suffer such a one to be beaten without mercy, that he may be weaned from his wilfulness. For the main, he is so a staff to the Answerer, that he makes him stand on his own legs. 9 In writing, his Latin is pure, so fare as the subject will allow. For those who are to climb the Alps are not to expect a smooth and even way. True it is that Schoolmen, perceiving that fallacy had too much covert under the nap of flourishing Language, used threadbare Latin on purpose, and cared not to trespass on Grammar, and tread down the fences thereof to avoid the circuit of words, and to go the nearest way to express their conceits. But our Divine though he useth barbarous School-terms, which like standers are fixed to the controversy, yet in his movable Latin, passages, and digressions his style is pure and elegant. 10 He affects clearness and plainness in all his writings. Some men's heads are like the world before God said unto it, Fiat lux. These dark-lanterns may shine to themselves, and understand their own conceits, but no body else can have light from them. Thus Mathias Farinator professor at Vienna, assisted with some other learned men, as the Times than went, was thirty years making a book of applying Plato's, Aristotle's, and Galen's rules in Philosophy, to Christ and his Prophets, and 'tis called * Mercator Atlas in the descrip. of Austria. Lumen animae; quo tamen nihil est caliginosius, labour magno, sed ridiculo, & inani. But this obscurity is worst when affected, when they do as Persius, of whom * Scalig. de Arte poet. lib. 6. c. 6. one saith, Legi voluit quae scripsit, intelligi noluit quae legerentur. Some affect this darkness, that they may be accounted profound, whereas one is not bound to believe that all the water is deep that is muddy. He is not curious in searching matters of no moment. 11 Captain Martin * Cambdens Elisab. anno. 1576. Forbisher fetched from the farthest northern Countries a ships lading of mineral stones (as he thought) which afterwards were cast out to mend the high ways. Thus are they served, and miss their hopes, who long seeking to extract hidden mysteries out of nice questions, leave them off, as useless at last. Antoninus Pius, for his desire to search to the least differences, was called Cumini sector, the Carver of cumine seed. One need not be so accurate: for as soon shall one scour the spots out of the moon, as all ignorance out of man. When Eunomius the heretic vaunted that he knew God and his divinity, S. * Epist. 168. quae est ad Eunomiun. Basil gravells him in 21 questions about the body of an ant or pismire: so dark is man's understanding. I wonder therefore at the boldness of some, who as if they were Lord Mashalls of the Angels place them in ranks and files. Let us not believe them here, but rather go to heaven to confute them. He neither multiplies needless, nor compounds necessary Controversies. 12 Sure they light on a labour in vain, who seek to make a bridge of reconciliation over the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 betwixt Papists and Protestants; for though we go 99 steps, they (I mean their Church) will not come one to give us a meeting. And as for the offers of Clara's and private men (besides that they seem to be more of the nature of baits than gifts) they may make large proffers, without any Commission to treat, and so the Romish Church not bound to pay their promises. In * Giraldus Camb. in descr. of Wales. Merionethshire in Wales there are high mountains, whose hanging tops come so close together that shepherds on the tops of several hills may audibly talk together, yet will it be a day's journey for their bodies to meet, so vast is the hallownesse of the valleys betwixt them. Thus upon sound search shall we find a grand distance and remoteness betwixt Popish and Protestant tenants to reconcile them, which at the first view may seem near, and tending to an accommodation. 13 He is resolute and stable in fundamental points of Religion. These are his fixed poles, and axletree about which he moves, whilst they stand unmoveable. Some sail so long on the Sea of controversies, tossed up and down, to and fro, Pro and Con, that the very ground to them seems to move, and their judgements grow sceptical and unstable in the most settled points of Divinity. When he cometh to Preach, especially if to a plain Auditory, with the Paracelsians he extracts an oil out of the driest and hardest bodies, and knowing that knotty timber is unfit to build with, he edifies people with easy and profitable matter. WILLIAM WHITACRES Dr. of D: Kings Professor and Master of S nt Johns Coll in Cambridge where He died Anᵒ 1595. Aged 47 years. W. marshal sculp: CHAP. 5. The life of Dr. Whitaker. WIlliam Whitaker born at Holm in the County of Lancaster of good parentage, especially by his mother's side, allied to two worshipful families. His reverend uncle, Alexander Nowell, Dean of S. Paul's (the first fruits of the English confessors in the days of Queen Marie, who after her death first returned into England from beyond the Seas) took him young from his parents, sent him first to Paul's School, thence to Trinity college in Cambridge; where he so profited in his studies, that he gave great promises of his future perfection. I pass by his youthful exercises, never striving for the garland, but he won and wore it away. His prime appearing to the world, was when he stood for the professors place against two competitors, in age fare his superiors. But the seven Electours in the university who were to choose the Emperor of the Schools, preferring a golden head before silver hairs, conferred the place on Whitaker; and the strict form of their Election hath no room for corruption. He so well acquitted himself in the place that he answered expectation, the strongest opponent in all disputes and lectures, and by degrees taught envy to admire him. By this time the Papists began to assault him, and the Truth. First Campian, one fit for a Trumpeter then a soldier, whose best ability was that he could boast in good Latin, being excellent at the flat hand of rhetoric (which rather gives pats then blows) but he could not bend his fist to dispute. Whitaker both in writing and disputing did teach him, that it was easier to make then maintain a challenge against our Church; and in like manner he handled both Duraeus, and Sanders, who successively undertook the same cause, solidly confuting their arguments. But these Teazers, rather to rouse then pinch the Game, only made Whitaker find his spirits. The fiercest dog is behind even Bellarmine himself, a great scholar, and who wanted nothing but a good cause to defend, and generally writing ingeniously, using sometimes slenting, seldom downright railing. Whitaker gave him all fair quarter, stating the question betwixt them, yielding all which the other in reason could ask, and agreeing on terms to fall out with him, played fairly but fiercely on him, till the other forsook the field. Bellarmine had no mind to reinforce his routed arguments, but rather consigned over that service to a new general, Stapleton an English man: He was born the same * Pitz●us. De ill●●i Angl. scrip. Atat. 16. pag. 796. year and month wherein Sr. Thomas More was beheaded, an observation little less than mystical with the Papists, as if God had substituted him to grow up in the room of the other for the support of the Catholic cause. If Whitaker in answering him put more gall then usual into his ink, Stapleton (whose mouth was as foul as his cause) first infected him with bitterness: and none will blame a man for arming his hands with hard and rough gloves, who is to meddle with briers and brambles. Thus they baited him constantly with fresh dogs: None that ran at him once desired a second course at him; and as * Davenant in Praefat. De Iud●●c & N●rma ●idei. one observes, Cum nullo host unquam constixit, quem non fudit & fugavit. He filled the Chair with a graceful presence, so that one needed not to do with him as * In epist. ad Spalalmum. Luther did with Melanchthon when he first heard him read, abstract the opinion and sight of his stature and person, lest the meanness thereof should cause an undervaluing of him: for our Whitakers person carried with it an excellent port. His style was manly for the strength, maidenly for the modesty, and elegant for the phrase thereof; showing his skill in spinning a fine thread out of course wool, for such is controversial matter. He had by his second wife, a modest woman, eight children. It being true of him also, what is said of the famous Lawyer * Thuanus, obit. doct. vir. anno 1558. Andreas Tiraquillus, singulis annis singulos libros & liberos Reipublicae dedit. My Father hath told me, that he often wished that he might lose so much Learning as he had gotten in after-supper studies, on condition he might gain so much strength as he had lost thereby. Indeed his body was strongly built for the natural temper, and well repaired by his temperate diet and recreations; but first he foundered the foundation of this house by immoderate study, and at last the roof was set on fire by a hot disease. The unhappy controversy was then started, Whether justifying faith may be lost. And this thorny question would not suffer our Nightingale to sleep. He was sent for up by Archbishop Whitgift to the conference at Lambeth, after which returning home, unseasonable riding, late studying, and night-watching brought him to a burning-fever, to which his body was naturally disposed, as appeared by the mastery of redness in his complexion. Thus lost he the health of his body, in maintaining, That the health of the soul could not be lost. All agreed that he should be let blood; which might then easily have been done, but was deferred by the fault of some about him, till it was too late. Thus, when God intends to cut a man's life off, his dearest friends by dangerous involuntary mistakes shall bring the knife. He died in the 47. year of his age, Anno Dom. 1595. and in S. John's college (whereof he was Master) was solemnly interred, with the grief of the University, and whole Church of God. CHAP. 6. The true Church Antiquary. HE is a traveller into former times, whence he hath learned their language and fashions. If he meets with an old manuscript, which hath the mark worn out of its mouth, and hath lost the date, yet he can tell the age thereof either by the phrase or character. He baits at middle Antiquity, Maxim 1. but lodges not till he comes at that which is ancient indeed. Some scour off the rust of old inscriptions into their own souls, cankering themselves with superstition, having read so often Orate pro anima, that at last they fall a praying for the departed; and they more lament the ruin of Monasteryes, than the decay and ruin of Monks lives, degenerating from their ancient piety and painfulness. Indeed a little skill in Antiquity inclines a man to Popery; but depth in that study brings him about again to our religion. A Nobleman who had heard of the extreme age of one dwelling not fare off, made a journey to visit him, and finding an aged person sitting in the chimney-corner, addressed himself unto him with admiration of his age, till his mistake was rectified: for, Oh Sr, (said the young-old man) I am not he whom you seek for, but his son; my father is farther off in the field. The same error is daily committed by the Romish Church, adoring the reverend brow and grey hairs of some ancient ceremonies, perchance but of some seven or eight hundred years standing in the Church, and mistake these for their fathers, of fare greater age in the Primitive times. He desires to imitate the ancient Fathers, 2 as well in their Piety, as in their Postures. Not only conforming his hands and knees, but chief his heart to their pattern. O the holiness of their living and painfulness of their preaching! how full were they of mortified thoughts, and heavenly meditations! Let us not make the ceremonial part of their lives only canonical, and the moral part thereof altogether Apocrypha, imitating their devotion not in the fineness of the stuff, but only in the fashion of the making. 3 He carefully marks the declination of the Church from the Primitive purity. Observing how sometimes humble devotion was contented to lie down, whilst proud superstition got on her back. Yea not only Frederick the Emperor, but many a godly Father some hundreds of years before held the Pope's stirrup, and by their well-meaning simplicity gave occasion to his future greatness. He takes notice how their Rhetorical hyperboles were afterwards accounted the just measure of dogmatic truths; How plain people took them at their word in their funeral apostrophes to the dead; How praying for the departed brought the fuel, under which after-ages kindled the fire of Purgatory; How one Ceremony begat another, there being no bounds in will-worship, wherewith one may sooner be wearied then satisfied; the inventours of new ceremonies endeavouring to supply in number, what their conceits want in solidity; How men's souls being in the full speed and career of the historical use of Pictures could not stop short, but must lash out into superstition, vailing their bonnets to Rome in civil courtesy, when making honourable mention thereof, are interpreted by modern Papists to have done it in adoration of the idol of the Pope's infallibility. All these things he ponders in his heart, observing both the times and places, when and where they happened. 4 He is not zealous for the introducing of old useless Ceremonies. The mischief is, some that are most violent to bring such in, are most negligent to preach the cautions in using them; and simple people, like Children in eating of fish, swallow bones and all to their danger of choking. Besides, what is observed of horsehairs, that lying nine days in water they turn to snakes; so some Ceremonies though dead at first, in continuance of time quicken, get stings, and may do much mischief, especially if in such an age wherein the meddling of some have justly awaked the jealousy of all. When many Popish tricks are abroad in the country; if then men meet with a Ceremony which is a stranger, especially if it can give but a bad account of itself, no wonder if the watch take it up for one on suspicion. He is not peremptory but conjectural in doubtful matters. 5 Not forcing others to his own opinion, but leaving them to their own liberty; not filling up all with his own conjectures to leave no room for other men: nor tramples he on their credits, if in them he finds slips and mistakes. For here our souls have but one eye (the Apostle saith, we know in part) be not proud if that chance to come athwart thy seeing side, which meets with the blind side of another. He thankfully acknowledgeth those by whom he hath profited. 6 Base natured they, who when they have quenched their own thirst, stop up, at least muddy, the fountain. But our Antiquary, if he be not the first Founder of a commendable conceit, contents himself to be a benefactor to it in clearing and adorning it. He affects not phancy-full singularity in his behaviour: 7 Nor cares he to have a proper mark in writing of words, to disguise some peculiar letter from the ordinary character. Others, for fear travellers should take no notice that skill in Antiquity dwells in such an head, hang out an antique hat for the sign, or use some obsolete garb in their garments, gestures, or discourse. 8 He doth not so adore the Ancients as to despise the Modern. Grant them but dwarves, yet stand they on giants shoulders, and may see the further. Sure, as stout champions of Truth follow in the rear, as ever Marched in the front. Besides, as * Sr. Fran. Ba●on Advance. of learn. p. 46. one excellently observes, Antiquitas seculi juventus mundi. These times are the ancient times, when the world is ancient; and not those which we count ancient ordine retrogrado, by a computation backwards from ourselves. CHAP. 7. The general Artist. I Know the general cavil against general learning is this, that aliquis in omnibus est nullus in singulis. He that sips of many arts, drinks of none. However we must know, that all learning, which is but one grand Science, hath so homogeneal a body, that the parts thereof do with a mutual service relate to, and communicate strength and lustre each to other. Our Artist knowing language to be the key of learning, thus gins. Maxim 1 His tongue being but one by nature he gets cloven by art and industry. Before the confusion of Babel, all the world was one continent in language; since divided into several tongues, as several islands. Grammar is the ship, by benefit whereof we pass from one to another, in the learned languages generally spoken in no country. His mother-tongue was like the dull music of a monochord, which by study he turns into the harmony of several instruments. 2 He first gaineth skill in the Latin and Greek tongues. On the credit of the former alone, he may trade in discourse over all Christendom: But the Greek, though not so generally spoken, is known with no less profit, and more pleasure. The joints of her compounded words are so naturally oiled, that they run nimbly on the tongue; which makes them though long never tedious, because significant. Besides, it is full and stately in sound: only it pities our Artist to see the vowels therein racked in pronouncing them, hanging oftentimes one way by their native force, and haled another by their accents which countermand them. Hence he proceeds to the Hebrew, 3 the mother-tongue of the world. More pains than quickness of wit is required to get it, and with daily exercise he continues it. Apostasy herein is usual to fall totally from the language by a little neglect. As for the Arabic, and other Oriental languages, he rather makes sallies and incursions into them, than any solemn sitting down before them. Then he applies his study to logic, 4 and ethics. The latter makes a man's soul mannerly & wise; but as for logic, that is the armoury of reason, furnished with all offensive and defensive weapons. There are syllogisms, long swords; Enthymems, short daggers; dilemmas, two-edged swords that cut on both sides; Sorites, chain-shot: And for the defensive, Distinctions, which are shields; Retortions, which are targets with a pike in the midst of them, both to defend and oppose. From hence he raiseth his studies to the knowledge of physics, the great hall of Nature, and metaphysics the closet thereof; and is careful not to wade therein so fare, till by subtle distinguishing of notions he confounds himself. He is skilful in rhetoric, 5 which gives a speech colour, as logic doth favour, and both together beauty. Though some condemn rhetoric as the mother of lies, speaking more than the truth in Hyperboles, less in her Miosis, otherwise in her metaphors, contrary in her ironies; yet is there excellent use of all these, when disposed of with judgement. Nor is he a stranger to Poetry, which is music in words; nor to music, which is poetry in sound: both excellent sauce, but they have lived and died poor, that made them their meat. 6 Mathematics he moderately studieth to his great contentment. Using it as ballast for his soul, yet to fix it not to stall it; nor suffers he it to be so unmannerly as to justle out other arts. As for judicial Astrology (which hath the least judgement in it) this vagrant hath been whipped out of all learned corporations. If our Artist lodgeth her in the out-rooms of his soul for a night or two, it is rather to hear then believe her relations. 7 Hence he makes his progress into the study of History. Nestor, who lived three ages, was accounted the wisest man in the world. But the Historian may make himself wise by living as many ages as have past since the beginning of the world. His books enable him to maintain discourse, who besides the stock of his own experience may spend on the common purse of his reading. This directs him in his life, so that he makes the shipwrecks of others sea-marks to himself; yea accidents which others start from for their strangeness, he welcomes as his wont acquaintance, having found precedents for them formerly. Without History a man's soul is purblind, seeing only the things which almost touch his eyes. 8 He is well seen in Chronology, without which History is but an heap of tales. If by the Laws of the land he is counted a natural, who hath not wit enough to tell twenty, or to tell his * Fits Herbert de nat. brev. de Idiota inquiren. age; he shall not pass with me for wise in learning, who cannot tell the age of the world, and count hundreds of years: I mean not so critically, as to solve all doubts arising thence; but that he may be able to give some tolerable account thereof. He is also acquainted with Cosmography, treating of the world in whole joints; with Chorography, shredding it into countries; and with Topography, mincing it into particular places. Thus taking these Sciences in their general latitude, he hath finished the round circle or golden ring of the arts; only he keeps a place for the diamond to be set in, I mean for that predominant profession of Law, physic, Divinity, or state-policy, which he intends for his principal Calling hereafter. julius Caesar SCALIGER. a great Restorer of learning. He died at again in France. Ano. Dni. 1558. aged 75 years. W. M. sculp: CHAP. 8. The life of JULIUS SCALIGER. I Know my choice herein is liable to much exception. Some will make me the pattern of ignorance, for making this Scaliger the pattern of the general Artist, whose own son Joseph might have been his father in many arts. But all things considered, the choice will appear well advised, even in such variety of examples. Yet let him know that undertakes to pick out the best ear amongst an acre of wheat, that he shall leave as good if not a better behind him, then that which he chooseth. He was born Anno 1484. in Italy, at the Castle of Ripa upon lacus Benacus, now called Lago di Garda, of the illustrious and noble family of the Scaligers, Princes, for many hundreds of years, of Verona, till at last the Venetians outed them of their ancient inheritance. Being about eleven years old, he was brought to the Court of Maximilian Emperor of Germany, where for seventeen years together he was taught learning, and military discipline. I pass by his valiant performances achieved by him, save that this one action of his is so great and strong, it cannot be kept in silence, but will be recorded. In the cruel battle at Ravenna betwixt the Emperor and the French, he not only bravely fetched off the dead bodies of Benedictus and Titus his father and brother, but also with his own hands rescued the Eagle (the standard Imperiall) which was taken by the enemies. For which his prowess Maximilian knighted him, and with his own hands put on him the golden spurs, and chain, the badges of knighthood. Amidst these his martial employments he made many a clandestine match with the Muses, and whilst he expected the tides and returns of business, he filled up the empty places of leisure with his studies. Well did the Poets feign Pallas patroness of arts and arms, there being ever good intelligence betwixt the two Professions, and as it were but a narrow cut to ferry over out of one into the other. At last Scaliger sounded a retreat to himself from the wars, and wholly applied himself to his book, especially after his wand'ring life was fixed by marriage unto the beautiful Andietta Lobeiaca, with whom he lived at again, near Montpeliar in France. His Latin was twice refined, and most critical, as appears by his own writings, and notes on other authors. He was an accurate Grecian, yet began to study it, when well nigh forty years old, when a man's tongue is too stiff to bow to words. What a torture was it to him who flowed with streams of matter then to learn words, yea letters, drop by drop? But nothing was unconquerable to his pains, who had a golden wit in an iron body. Let his book of subtleties witness his profound skill in logic, and natural Philosophy. His skill in physic was as great, as his practice therein was happy; in so much that he did many strange and admirable cures. Hear how a * Stephanus Boetius Regius Senator Burdigolae ad Vidum Brassacum Praesidem. noble and learned pen doth commend him: Non hunc fefellit ulla vis recondita Salubris herbae, saltibus si quam aviis Celat nivosus Caucasus, seu quam procul Riphaea duro contigit rupes gelu. Hic jamque spectantes ad orcum non semel Animas repressit victor, & membris suis Haerere succis compulit felicibus, Nigrique avaras Ditis elusit manus. On snowy Caucasus there grew no root Of secret power, but he was privy to it; On cold Riphean hills no simple grew, But he the force thereof and virtue knew. Wherewith (applied by his successful art) Such sullen souls as would this world departed, He forced still in their bodies to remain, And from death's door fetched others back again. As for his skill in Physiognomy, it was wonderful. I know some will say, that cannot be read in men's faces which was never wrote there, and that he that seeks to find the disposition of men's souls in the figures of their bodies, looks for letters on the backside of the book. Yet is it credibly * In vita jul. Scalig. p. 54. averred that he never looked on his infant-sonne Audectus but with grief, as sorrow-struck with some sad sign of ill success he saw in his face: which child at last was found stifled in bed with the embraces of his nurse being fast asleep. In mathematics he was no Archimedes, though he shown his skill therein with the best advantage, and stood therein on his tiptoes, that his learning might seem the taller. But in Poetry his over-measure of skill might make up this defect, as is attested by his book de Arte Poetica. Yet his own Poems are harsh, and unsmooth, (as if he rather snorted then slept on Parnassus) and they sound better to the brain then the ear. Indeed his censure in Poetry was incomparable; but he was more happy in repairing of Poems then in building them from the ground, which speaks his judgement to be better than his invention. What shall I speak of his skill in History? whose own actions were a sufficient History. He was excellently versed in the passages of the world, both modern and ancient. Many modern languages, which departed from Babel in a confusion, met in his mouth in a method, being skilful in the Sclavonick tongue, the Hungarian, Dutch, Italian, Spanish, and French. But these his excellent parts were attended with prodigious pride; and he had much of the humour of the Ottomans in him, to kill all his brethren, and cry down all his equals, which were corrivals with him in the honour of arts, which was his principal quarrel with Cardan. Great was his spite at Erasmus, the morningstar of learning, and one by whom Julius himself had profited, though afterwards he sought to put out that candle whereat he had lighted his own. In the bickering betwixt them, Erasmus plucked Scaliger by the long locks of his immoderate boasting, and touched him to the quick (a proud man lies pat for a jeering man's hand to hit) yea Erasmus was a badger in his jeers, where he did by't he would make his teeth meet. Nor came Scaliger behind him in railing. However afterward Scaliger repent of his bitterness, and before his death was * Thuan. obit. Illustr. Anno. 1558. reconciled unto him. Thus his learning, being in the circuit of arts, spread so wide, no wonder if it lay thin in some places. His parts were nimble, that starting so late he overtook, yea overran his equals: so that we may safely conclude that making abatement for his military avocations, and late applying himself to study, scarce any one is to be preferred before him for generality of humane learning. He died Anno 1558. in the 75. year of his age. CHAP. 9 The faithful Minister. WE suppose him not brought up by hand only in his own country studies, but that he hath sucked of his Mother University, and throughly learned the arts: Not as S. * Camb. Brit. in Northamptonshire. Rumball, who is said to have spoken as soon as he was born, doth he preach as soon as he is Matriculated. Conceive him now a Graduate in arts, and entered into orders, according to the solemn form of the Church of England, and presented by some patron to a pastoral charge, or place equivalent, and then let us see how well he dischargeth his office. Maxim 1 He endeavours to get the general love and good will of his parish. This he doth not so much to make a benefit of them, as a benefit for them, that his ministry may be more effectual; otherwise he may preach his own heart out, before he preacheth any thing into theirs. The good conceit of the Physician is half a cure, and his practice will scarce be happy where his person is hated; yet he humour's them not in his Doctrine to get their love: for such a spaniel is worse than a dumb dog. He shall sooner get their good will by walking uprightly, then by crouching and creeping. If pious living and painful labouring in his calling will not win their affections, he counts it gain to lose them. As for those which causelessely hate him, he pities and prays for them: and such there will be; I should suspect his preaching had no salt in it, if no galled horse did winse He is strict in ordering his conversation. As for those who cleanse blurs with blotted fingers, 2 they make it the worse. It was said of one who preached very well, & lived very ill, That when he was out of the Pulpit, it was pity he should ever go into it, & when he was in the Pulpit, it was pity he should ever come out of it: But our Minister lives Sermons. And yet I deny not but dissolute men, like unskilful horsemen which open a gate on the wrong side, may by the virtue of their office open heaven for others, and shut themselves out. His behaviour towards his people is grave and courteous. 3 Not too austere and retired; which is laid to the charge of good Mr * Fox, Acts and Mon. in his life. Hooper the martyr, that his rigidness frighted people from consulting with him. Let your light (saith Christ) shine before men; whereas over reservedness makes the brightest virtue burn dim. Especially he detesteth affected gravity (which is rather on men then in them) whereby some belie their register-book, antedate their age to seem fare older than they are, and plait and set their brows in an affected sadness. Whereas S * Athanasius in ejus vita. Anthony the Monk might have been known among hundreds of his order by his cheerful face, he having ever (though a most mortified man) a merry countenance. He doth not clash God's ordinances together about precedency. 4 Not making odious comparisons betwixt Prayer and Preaching, Preaching and Catechising, public prayer and Private, Premeditate prayer and Ex tempore. When at the taking of new Carthage in Spain two soldiers contended about the mural crown (due to him who first climbed the walls) so that the whole army was thereupon in danger of division, * Plutarch in Scipio's. life, pag. 1807. Scipio the general said, He knew that they both got up the wall together, and so gave the Scaling crown to them both. Thus our Minister compounds all controversies betwixt God's ordinances, by praising them all, practising them all, and thanking God for them all. He counts the reading of Common-prayers to prepare him the better for preaching; and as one said, if he did first toll the bell on one side, it made it afterwards ring out the better in his Sermons. 5 He carefully Catechiseth his people in the elements of religion. Except he hath (a rare thing) a flock without lambs, all of old sheep; and yet even Luther did not scorn to profess himself Discipulum Catechismi, a scholar of the catechism. By this Catechising the Gospel first got ground of Popery▪ and let not our Religion now grown rich be ashamed of that which first gave it credit and set it up, lest the Jesuits beat us at our own weapon. Through the want of this Catechising many which are well skilled in some dark out-corners of Divinity have lost themselves in the beaten road thereof. 6 He will not offer to God of that which costs him nothing; but takes pains aforehand for his Sermons. * Plutarch in the life of Demosth. Demosthenes never made any oration on the sudden; yea being called upon he never risen up to speak, except he had well studied the matter: and he was wont to say, That he shown how he honoured and reverenced the people of Athens because he was careful what he spoke unto them. Indeed if our Minister be surprised with a sudden occasion, he counts himself rather to be excused then commended, if premeditating only the bones of his Sermon he clothes it with flesh ex tempore. As for those, whose long custom hath made preaching their nature, that they can discourse Sermons without study, he accounts their examples rather to be admired then imitated. Having brought his Sermon into his head, he labours to bring it into his heart, 7 before he preaches it to his people. Surely that preaching which comes from the soul most works on the soul. Some have questioned ventriloquy, when men strangely speak out of their bellies, whether it can be done lawfully or no: might I coin the word cordiloquie, when men draw the doctrines out of their hearts, sure all would count this lawful and commendable. 8 He chief reproves the reigning sins of the time, and place he lives in. We may observe that our Saviour never inveighed against Idolatry, Usury, Sabbath-breaking amongst the Jews; not that these were not sins, but they were not practised so much in that age, wherein wickedness was spun with a finer thread: and therefore Christ principally bend the drift of his preaching against spiritual Pride, hypocrisy, and Traditions then predominant amongst the people. Also our Minister confuteth no old Heresies which time hath confuted; nor troubles his Auditory with such strange, hideous cases of Conscience, that it is more hard to find the case then the resolution. In public reproving of sin, he ever whips the vice, and spares the person. He doth not only move the bread of life, and toss it up and down in generalities, 9 but also breaks it into particular directions: drawing it down to cases of Conscience, that a man may be warranted in his particular actions, whether they be lawful or not. And he teacheth people their lawful liberty as well as their restraints and prohibitions; for amongst men it is as ill taken to turn back favours, as to disobey commands. The places of Scripture he quotes are pregnant and pertinent. 10 As for heaping up of many quotations, it smacks of a vain ostentation of memory. Besides, it is as impossible that the hearer should profitably retain them all, as that the preacher hath seriously perused them all: yea, whilst the auditors stop their attention, and stoop down to gather an impertinent quotation, the Sermon runs on, and they lose more substantial matter. 11 His similes and illustrations are always familiar, never contemptible. Indeed reasons are the pillars of the fabric of a Sermon, but similitudes are the windows which give the best light. He avoids such stories whose mention may suggest bad thoughts to the auditors, and will not use a light comparison to make thereof a grave application, for fear lest his poison go farther than his antidote. 12 He provideth not only wholesome but plentiful food for his people. Almost incredible was the painfulness of Baronius, the compiler of the voluminous Annals of the Church, who for thirty years together preached * The words being somewhat ambiguous are thus, In audiendis confessionibus, & sermonibus ad populum ter in hebdomada quàtérve habendis per triginta & ampliùs annos diligentissimâ assiduitate laboravit, Spondivus in vita Baronii, pag. 2. part. 7. three or four times aweek to the people. As for our Minister, he preferreth rather to entertain his people with wholesome cold meat which was on the table before, then with that which is hot from the spit, raw and half roasted. Yet in repetition of the same Sermon, every edition hath a new addition, if not of new matter of new affections. Of whom, saith S. Paul, we have told you often, and now we tell you weeping. 13 He makes not that wearisome, which should ever be welcome. Wherefore his Sermons are of an ordinary length except on an extraordinary occasion. What a gift had John * Mercator Atlas in the descrip. of Austria. Haselbach, professor at Vienna, in tediousness? who being to expound the Prophet Esay to his auditors read twenty one years on the first Chapter, and yet finished it not. 14 He counts the success of his Ministry the greatest preferment. Yet herein God hath humbled many painful pastors, in making them to be clouds to rain, not over Arabia the happy, but over the stony or desert: so that they may complain with the Herdsman in the Poet, He● mihi, quam pingui macer est mihi taurus in arvo? My starveling bull, Ah woe is me, In pasture full, How lean is he? Yet such pastors may comfort themselves that great is their reward with God in heaven, who measures it not by their success but endeavours. Besides, though they see not, their people may feel benefit by their Ministry. Yea the preaching of the Word in some places is like the planting of woods, where though no profit is received for twenty years together, it comes afterwards. And grant, that God honours thee not to build his temple in thy parish, yet thou Mayst with David provide metal and materials for Solomon thy successor to build it with. To sick folks he comes sometimes before he is sent for, 15 as counting his vocation a sufficient calling. None of his flock shall want the extreme unction of Prayer and counsel. Against the Communion especially he endeavours that Janus his temple be shut in the whole parish, and that all be made friends. He is never plaintiff in any suit but to be rights defendant. 16 If his deuce be detained from him, he grieves more for his parishioners bad conscience then his own damage. He had rather suffer ten times in his profit, than once in his title, where not only his person, but posterity is wronged: And then he proceeds fairly and speedily to a trial, that he may not vex and weary others, but right himself. During his suit he neither breaks off nor slacks offices of courtesy to his adversary; yea though he loseth his suit, he will not also lose his charity. Chief he is respectful to his patron, that as he presented him freely to his living, so he constantly presents his patron in his prayers to God. 17 He is moderate in his tenets and opinions. Not that he gilds over lukewarmness in matters of moment with the title of discretion, but withal he is careful not to entitle violence in indifferent and in concerning matters to be zeal. Indeed men of extraordinary tallness, (though otherwise little deserving) are made porters to lords, & those of unusual littleness are made ladies dwarves, whilst men of moderate stature may want masters. Thus many notorious for extremities may find favourers to prefer them, whilst moderate men in the middle truth may want any to advance them. But what saith the Apostle? If in this life only we had hope we are of all men the most miserable. 18 He is sociable and willing to do any courtesy for his neighbour Ministers. He willingly communicates his knowledge unto them. Surely the gifts and graces of Christians lay in common, till base envy made the first enclosure. He neither slighteth his inferiors; nor repineth at those who in parts and credit are above him. He loveth the company of his neighbour Ministers. Sure as ambergris is nothing so sweet in itself, as when it is compounded with other things; so both godly and learned men are gainers by communicating themselves to their neighbours. 19 He is careful in the discreet ordering of his own family. A good Minister and a good father may well agree together. When a certain Frenchman came to visit * Pantaleon de Illustr. Germ. in vita Melanch. Melanchthon, he found him in his stove with one hand dandling his child in the swadling-clouts, and in the other hand holding a book and reading it. Our Minister also is as hospitable as his estate will permit, and makes every alms two by his cheerful giving it. He loveth also to live in a well-repaired house, that he may serve God therein more cheerfully. A Clergieman who built his house from the ground wrote in it this counsel to his successor, If thou dost find an house built to thy mind Without thy cost, Serve thou the more God and the poor; My labour is not lost. Lying on his deathbed he bequeathes to each of his parishioners his precepts and example for a legacy: 20 and they in requital erect every one a monument for him in their hearts. He is so fare from that base jealousy that his memory should be outshined by a brighter successor, and from that wicked desire that his people may find his worth by the worthlessness of him that succeeds, that he doth hearty pray to God to provide them a better pastor after his decease. As for outward estate, he commonly lives in too bare pasture to die fat▪ It is well if he hath gathered any flesh, being more in blessing then bulk. WILLIAM PERKINS The Learned, pious, and painful Preacher of God's word, at St Andrew's in Cambridge where He died Anno Dni. 1602. Aged 44 years. W. M. sculp. CHAP. 10. The life of Mr PERKINS. William Perkins, born at Marston nigh Coventry in Warwickshire, was afterwards brought up in Christ-Colledge in Cambridge, where he so well profited in his studies that he got the grounds of all liberal Arts, and in the 24. of Queen Elizabeth was chosen fellow of that college, the same year wherein doctor Andrew Willet (one of admirable industry) and doctor Richard Clark (whose learned Sermons commend him to posterity) were elected into the same Society. There goeth an uncontrolled tradition, that Perkins, when a young scholar, was a great studier of magic, occasioned perchance by his skill in mathematics. For ignorant people count all circles above their own sphere to be conjuring, and presently cry out those things are done by black art for which their dim eyes can see no colour in reason. And in such cases, when they cannot fly up to heaven to make it a Miracle, they fetch it from hell to make it magic, though it may lawfully be done by natural causes. True it is he was very wild in his youth till God (the best chemic who can fix quicksilver itself) graciously reclaimed him. After his entrance into the Ministry, the first beam he sent forth shined to those which sat in darkness and the shadow of death, I mean the prisoners in the castle of Cambridge, people (as generally in such places) living in England out of Christendom, wanting the means of their salvation, bound in their bodies, but too lose in their lives, yea often branded in their flesh, and seared in their consciences. Perkins prevailed so fare with their jailor, that the prisoners were brought (fettered) to the Shire-house hard by, where he preached unto them every Lord's day. Thus was the prison his parish, his own Charity his Patron presenting him unto it, and his work was all his wages. Many an Onesimus here he begat, and as the instrument freed the prisoners from the captivity of sin. When this began to be known, some of good quality of the neighbouring parishes became his auditors, and counted it their feast to feed out of the prisoners basket. Hence afterwards he became Preacher of S. Andrews parish in Cambridge, where he continued to the day of his death. His Sermons were not so plain but that the piously learned did admire them, nor so learned but that the plain did understand them. What was said of Socrates, That he first humbled the towering speculations of Philosophers into practice and morality; so our Perkins brought the schools into the Pulpit, and unshelling their controversies out of their hard school-terms, made thereof plain and wholesome meat for his people. For he had a capacious head with angles winding, and roomthy enough to lodge all controversial in●●●asies; and, had not preaching diverted him from that way, he had no doubt attained to eminency therein. An excellent Chirurgeon he was at jointing of a broken soul, and at stating of a doubtful conscience. And sure in Case-divinity Protestants are defective. For (save that a Smith or two of late have built them forges, and set up shop) we go down to our enemies to sharpen all our instruments, and are beholden to them for offensive and defensive weapons in Cases of Conscience. He would pronounce the word damn with such an emphasis as left a doleful Echo in his auditors ears a good while after. And when Catechist of Christ-Colledge, in expounding the Commandments, S. W. M●. of S. C. C. applied them so home, able almost to make his hearers hearts fall down, and hairs to stand upright. But in his older age he altered his voice, and remitted much of his former rigidness, often professing that to preach mercy was that proper office of the Ministers of the gospel. Some octject that his Doctrine, referring all to an absolute decree, hamstrings all industry, and cuts off the sinews of men's endeavours towards salvation. For ascribing all to the wind of God's spirit, (which bloweth where it listeth) he leaveth nothing to the oars of man's diligence, either to help or hinder to the attaining of happiness, but rather opens a wide door to licentious security. Were this the hardest objection against Perkins his doctrine, his own life was a sufficient answer thereunto, so pious, so spotless, that Malice was afraid to by't at his credit, into which she knew her teeth could not enter. H● had a rare felicity in speedy reading of books, and as it were but turning them over would give an exact account of all considerables therein. So that as it were riding post thorough an author, he took strict notice 〈◊〉 all passages, as if he had dwelled on them particularly; perusing books so speedily, one would think he read nothing; so accurately, one would think he read all. He was of a cheerful nature and pleasant disposition: Indeed to mere strangers he was reserved and close, suffering them to knock a good while before he would open himself unto them; but on the least acquaintance he was merry and very familiar. Besides his assiduity in preaching he wrote many books, extant at this day. And pity it was, that he set not forth more of them himself; for though some of his Orphan works lighted on good Guardians, yet all were not so happy; and indeed no nurse for a child to the own mother. He died in the 44. year of his age of a violent fit of the stone. It hath been reported that he died in the conflict of a troubled conscience; which admit were so, had been no wonder. For God sometimes seemingly leaves his Saints when they leave the world, plunging them on their deathbeds in deep temptations, and casting their souls down to hell, to rebound the higher to heaven. Besides, the devil is most busy on the last day of his Term; and a Tenant to be outed cares not what mischief he doth. But here was no such matter. S. W. ut priús. Indeed he always cried out Mercy Mercy: which some standers by misinterpreted for despair, as if he felt not God's favour, because he called for it: whereas Mercy is a Grace which they hold the fastest, that most catch after it. 'Tis true that many on less reason have expressed more confidence of their future happiness, and have delivered themselves in larger speeches concerning the same. But who could expect a long oration from him, where every word was accented with pain in so sharp a disease. His funerals were solemnly and sumtuously performed of the sole charges of Christ-Colledge, which challenged, as she gave him his breeding, to pay for his burial; the University and Town lovingly contending which should express more sorrow thereat. Doctor Montague, afterwards Bishop of Winchester, preached his Funerall-Sermon, and excellently discharged the place, taking for his Text, Moses my servant is dead. He was of a ruddy complexion, very fat and corpulent, lame of his right hand; and yet this Ehud with a lefthanded pen did stab the Romish Cause, and * Hugh Holland in his Icones. as one saith, Dextera quantumvis fuerat tibi manca, docendi Pollebas mira dexteritate tamen. Though nature thee of thy right hand bereft, Right well thou writest with thy hand that's left. He was born the first, and died the last year of Queen Elisabeth, so that his life streamed in equal length with her reign, and they both had their fountains, and falls together. I must not forget, how his books after his death were translated into most modern Christian languages. For though he excellently improved his talon in the English tongue, yet foreigners thought it but wrapped up in a napkin, whilst folded in an unknown language. Wherefore some translated the main body of his works into French, Dutch, and Italian; and his books speak more tongues, than the Maker ever understood. His Reformed Catholic was done into Spanish, and no Spaniard ever since durst take up that gauntlet of defiance our Champion cast down: yea their Inquisition rather chose to answer it with tortures, than arguments. CHAP. 11. The good Parishioner. WE will only describe his Church-reference; his civil part hath and shall be met with under other Heads. Conceive him to live under such a faithful Minister as before was charactered, as, either judging charitably that all pastors are such, or wishing hearty that they were. Though near to the Church he is not fare from God. Maxim 1 Like unto Justus, Acts 18.8. One that worshipped God, and his house joined hard to the Synagogue. Otherwise if his distance from the church be great, his diligence is the greater to come thither in season. He is timely at the beginning of Common prayer. 2 Yet as * De sinibus boni & mali, lib. 2. Tully Charged some dissolute people for being such sluggards that they never saw the sun rising or setting, as being always up after the one, and a-bed before the other; so some negligent people never hear prayers begun, or sermon ended: the Confession being past before they come, and the Blessing not come before they are passed away. In sermon he sets himself to hear God in the Minister. 3 Therefore divesteth he himself of all prejudice, the jaundice in the eyes of the soul presenting colours false unto it. He hearkens very attentively: 'Tis a shame when the Church itself is Coemeterium, wherein the living sleep above ground as the dead do beneath. At every Point that concerns himself, 4 he turns down a leaf in his heart; and rejoiceth that god's word hath pierced him, as hoping that whilst his soul smarts it heals. And as it is no manners for him that hath good venison before him, to ask whence it came, but rather fairly to fall to it; so hearing an excellent Sermon, he never inquires whence the Preacher had it, or whether it was not before in print, but falls aboard to practise it. 5 He accuseth not his Minister of spite for particularising him. It does not follow that the archer aimed, because the arrow hit. Rather our Parishioner reasoneth thus; If my sin be notorious, how could the Minister miss it? if secret, how could he hit it without God's direction? But foolish hearers make even the bells of Aaron's garments to clink as they think. And a guilty conscience is like a whirlpool, drawing in all to itself which otherwise would pass by. One, causelessely disaffected to his Minister, complained that he in his last Sermon had personally inveighed against him, and accused him thereof to a grave religious Gentleman in the parish: Truly, said the Gentleman, I had thought in his Sermon he had meant me, for it touched my heart. This rebated the edge of the others anger. 6 His Tithes he pays willingly with cheerfulness. How many part with God's portions grudgingly, or else pinch it in the paying. * Fluctus Decimus pro maximo. Ovidio & Lucano. Decimum, the Tenth, amongst the Romans was ever taken for what was best or biggest. It falls out otherwise in paying of Tithes, where the least and leanest are shifted off to make that number. 7 He hides not himself from any Parish-office which seeks for him. If chosen Churchwarden, he is not busily-idle, rather to trouble then reform, presenting all things but those which he should. If Overseer of the poor, he is careful the rates be made indifferent (whose inequality oftentimes is more burdensome than the sum) and well disposed of. He measures not people's wants by their clamorous complaining, and dispenseth more to those that deserve then to them that only need relief. He is bountiful in contributing to the repair of God's house. 8 For though he be not of their opinion, who would have the Churches under the gospel conformed to the magnificence of Solomon's Temple (whose porch would serve us for a Church) and adorn them so gaudily, that devotion is more distracted then raised, and men's souls rather dazzled, then lightened; yet he conceives it fitting that such sacred places should be handsomely and decently maintained: The rather because the climacterical year of many Churches from their first foundation, may seem to happen in our days; so old, that their ruin is threatened if not speedily repaired. He is respectful to his minister's widow and posterity for his sake. 9 When the only daughter of Peter Martyr was, through the riot and prodigality of her debauched husband, brought to extreme poverty, the * Thuan obit. vir. doct. Anno. 1562. State of Zurick, out of grateful remembrance of her Father, supported her with bountiful maintenance. My prayers shall be, that Ministers widows, and children may never stand in need of such relief, and may never want such relief when they stand in need. CHAP. 12. The good Patron. THat in the Primitive times (though I dare not say generally in all Churches) if not the sole choice, at least the consent of the people was required in appointing of Ministers, may partly appear out of * Acts 14. 2●. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Scripture, more plainly out of * Lib. 1. epist. 4 Cyprian, and is confessed by reverend * Defence of the Answer to the Admonition. pag. 164. Dr. Whitgift. These popular elections were well discharged in those purer times, when men being scoured with constant persecution had little leisure to rust with factions, and when there were no baits for Corruption; the places of Ministers being then of great pains and peril, & small profit. But dissension creeping in, in after-ages (the eyes of common people at the best but dim through ignorance being wholly blinded with partiality) it may seem their right of election was either devolved to, or assumed of the Bishop of the diocese, who * Concil. Toletan. Anno 589. Can. 9 Synod. Antiochen. Can. 24. and 2. Concil. Gangrense Can. 7. and 8. only was to appoint Curates in every parish. Afterwards to invite lay-men to build and endow Churches, the Bishops departed with their right to the lay Patrons according to the verse, Patronum faciunt does, Aedificatio, Fundus. A Patron's he that did endow with lands, Or built the Church, or on whose ground it stands. It being conceived reasonable that he who paid the church's portion, should have the main stroke in providing her an husband. Then came Patronages to be annexed to manors, and by sale or descent to pass along with them; nor could any justly complain thereof, if all Patrons were like him we describe. Maxim 1 He counts the Living his to dispose, not to make profit of. He fears more to lapse his conscience, than his Living, fears more the committing then the discovery of Simony. 2 A Benefice he sometimes giveth speedily, never rashly. Some are long in bestowing them out of state, because they love to have many suitors; others out of covetousness will not open their wares till all their chapmen are come together, pretending to take the more deliberation. 3 He is deaf to opportunity, if wanting desert. Yet is he not of the mind of Tamberlane the Scythian King, who never gave Office to any that sought for it: for desiring proceeds not always from want of deserving; yea God himself likes well that his favours should be sued for. Our Patron chief respects piety, sufficiency, and promise of painfulness, whereby he makes his election. If he can by the same deed provide for God's house and his own family, he counts it lawful, but on no terms will prefer his dearest and nearest son or kinsman if unworthy. He hates not only direct simony, 4 or rather Gehazisme, by the string, but also that which goes about by the bow. Ancient counsels present us with several forms hereof. Concil. Pa●ent. Anno 1312. Constit. 14. I find how the patron's sons and nephews were wont to feed upon the Incumbent, and eat out the presentation in great banquets and dinners, till at last the Palentine council brought a voider to such feasts, and made a canon against them. But the former ages were bunglers to the cunning contrivance of the simony-engineers of our times. O my soul come thou not into their secrets. As if they cared not to go to hell, so be it were not the nearest way, but that they might fetch a fare compass round about. And yet father * Vid. Videl. Comment. in Epist. Ignatii ad Tralienses. Campian must nreot carry it so clearly, who taxeth the Protestants for maintaining of simony. We confess it a personal vice amongst us, but not to be charged as a Church-sinne, which by penal Laws it doth both prohibit and punish. Did Rome herein look upon the dust behind her own doors, she would have but little cause to call her neighbour slut. What saith the Epigram? An Petrus fuerat Romae sub judice lis est; Simonem Romae nemo fuisse negat. That Peter was at Rome, there's strife about it; That Simon was there, none did ever doubt it. He hates corruption not only in himself, 5 but his servants. Otherwise it will do no good for the Master to throw bribes away, if the Men catch them up at the first rebound, yea before ever they come to the ground. * In the life of Queen Elizab. Anno Dom. 1596. Cambden can tell you what Lord-Keeper it was in the days of Queen Elizabeth, who though himself an upright man was hardly spoken of for the baseness of his servants in the sale of ecclesiastical preferments. 6 When he hath freely bestowed a Living, he makes no boasts of it. To do this were a kind of spiritual simony, to ask and receive applause of others; as if the commonness of faulting herein made a right, and the rarity of giving things freely merited ex condigno a general commendation. He expects nothing from the Clerk he presented but his prayers to God for him, respectful carriage towards him, and painfulness in his Calling, who having gotten his place freely may discharge it the more faithfully: whereas those will scarce afford to feed their sheep fat, who rend the pasture at too high a rate. To conclude, let Patrons imitate this particular example of King William Rufus, who (though sacrilegious in other acts) herein discharged a good conscience. Two Monks came to him to buy an abbot's place of him, seeking to outvie each other in offering great sums of money, whilst a third Monk stood by, and said nothing. To whom said the King, What wilt thou give for the place. Not a penny, answered he, for it is against my conscience; but here I stay to wait home on him whom your royal pleasure shall design Abbot. Then quoth the King, Thou of the three best deservest the place, and shalt have it, and so bestowed it on him. CHAP. 13. The good Landlord. IS one that lets his land on a reasonable rate, so that the Tenant by employing his stock, and using his industry, may make an honest livelihood thereby, to maintain himself and his children. His rent doth quicken his Tenant but not gall him. Maxim 1 Indeed 'tis observed, that where Landlords are very easy, the Tenants (but this is per Accidens, out of their own laziness) seldom thrive, contenting themselves to make up the just measure of their rent, and not labouring for any surplusage of estate. But our Landlord puts some metal into his tenant's industry, yet not grating him too much, lest the Tenant revenge the landlord's cruelty to him upon his land. Yet he raiseth his rents (or fines equivalent) in some proportion to the present price of other commodities. 2 The plenty of money makes a seeming scarcity of all other things, and wares of all sorts do daily grow dear. If therefore our Landlord should let his rents stand still as his Grandfather left them, whilst other wares daily go on in price, he must needs be cast fare behind in his estate. What he sells or sets to his Tenant, 3 he suffers him quietly to enjoy according to his covenants. This is a great joy to a Tenant, though he buys dear to possess without disturbance. A strange example there was of Gods punishing a covetous Landlord at * Holinshed p. 1224. Rye in Sussex, Anno 1570. He having a certain marish, wherein men on poles did dry their fishnets, received yearly of them a sufficient sum of money, till not content therewith he caused his servant to pluck up the poles, not suffering the fishermen to use them any longer, except they would compound at a greater rate. But it came to pass the same night that the sea breaking in covered the same marish with water, and so it still continueth. 4 He detests and abhors all enclosure with depopulation. And because this may seem a matter of importance, we will break it into several propositions. 1 Enclosure may be made without depopulating. Infinites of examples show this to be true. But depopulation hath cast a slander on enclosure, which because often done with it, people suspect it cannot be done without it. 2 Enclosure made without depopulating is injurious to none. I mean if proportionable allotments be made to the poor for their commonage, and free & lease-holders' have a considerable share with the lord of the manor. 3 Enclosure without depopulating is beneficial to private persons. Then have they most power and comfort to improve their own parts, and for the time, and manner thereof may mould it to their own conveniency. The Monarch of one acre will make more profit thereof then he that hath his share in forty in common. 4 Enclosure without depopulating is profitable to the commonwealth. If injurious to no private person, and profitable to them all, it must needs be beneficial to the Commonwealth, which is but the Summa totalis of sundry persons, as several figures. Besides, if a Mathematician should count the wood in the hedges, to what a mighty forest would it amount? This underwood serves for supplies to save timber from burning, otherwise our wooden walls in the water must have been sent to the fire. Add to this the strength of an enclosed country against a foreign invasion. Hedges and counter-hedges (having in number what they want in height and depth) serve for barracadoes, and will stick as birdlime in the wings of the horse, and scotch the wheeling about of the foot. Small resistance will make the enemy to earn every mile of ground as he marches. Object not, That enclosure destroys tillage, the staff of a country, for it need not all be converted to pasturage. Cain and Abel may very well agree in the Commonwealth, the ploughman and Shepherd part the enclosures betwixt them. 5 Enclosure with depopulation is a canker to the commonwealth. It needs no proof: woeful experience shows how it unhouses thousands of people, till desperate need thrusts them on the gallows. Long since had this land been sick of a pleurisy of people, if not let blood in their Western Plantations. 6 Enclosure with depopulation endammageth the parties themselves. 'Tis a paradox and yet a truth, that reason shows such enclosures to be gainful, and experience proves them to be loss to the makers. It may be, because God being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a Lover of man, mankind, and men's society, and having said to them, Multiply and increase, counts it an affront unto him, that men depopulate, and whereas bees daily swarm, men make the hives fewer. The margin shall direct you to the * Mr Benthams Christian Constici, pag. 322. author that counts eleven manors in Northhamptonshire thus enclosed: which towns have vomited out (to use his own expression) and unburthened themselves of their former desolating and depopulating owners, and I think of their posterity. He rejoiceth to see his Tenants thrive. 5 Yea he counts it a great honour to himself, when he perceiveth that God blesseth their endeavours, and that they come forward in the world. I close up all with this pleasant story. A Farmer rent a Grange generally reported to be haunted by Faries, and paid a shrewd rent for the same at each half years end. Now a Gentleman asked him how he durst be so hardy as to live in the house, and whether no Spirits did trouble him. Truth (said the Farmer) there be two Saints in heaven vex me more than all the devils in hell, namely the Virgin Mary, and Michael the Archangel; on which days he paid his rent. CHAP. 14. The good Master of a college. THe Jews Anno 1348. were banished out of most countries of Christendom, principally for poisoning of springs and * Munster de German. lib. 3. pag. 457. fountains. Grievous therefore is their offence, who infect colleges, the fountains of learning and religion; and it concerneth the Church and State, that the Heads of such houses be rightly qualified, such men as we come to character. Maxim 1 His learning if beneath eminency is fare above contempt. Sometimes ordinary scholars make extraordinary good Masters. every one who can play well on Apollo's harp cannot skilfully drive his chariot, there being a peculiar mystery of Government. Yea as a little allay makes gold to work the better, so (perchance) some dulness in a man makes him fit to manage secular affairs; and those who have climbed up Parnassus but half way better behold worldly business (as lying low and nearer to their sight) than such as have climbed up to the top of the mount. 2 He not only keeps the Statutes (in his study) but observes them: for the maintaining of them will maintain him, if he be questioned. He gives them their true dimensions, not racking them for one, and shrinking them for another, but making his conscience his daily visitor. He that breaks the Statutes, and thinks to rule better by his own discretion, makes many gaps in the hedge, and then stands to stop one of them with a stake in his hand. Besides, thus to confound the will of the dead Founders, is the ready way to make living men's charity (like Sr Hugh Willoughby in discovering the Northern passage) to be frozen to death, and will dishearten all future benefactors. He is principal Porter, 3 and chief Chappell-monitour. For where the Master keeps his chamber always, the scholars will keep theirs seldom, yea perchance may make all the walls of the college to be gate. He seeks to avoid the inconvenience when the gates do rather divide then confine the scholars, when the college is distinguished (as France into Cis & Transalpina) into the part on this, and on the otherside of the walls. As for out-lodgings (like galleries, necessary evils in populous Churches) he rather tolerates than approves them. In his Elections he respecteth merit, 4 not only as the condition but as the cause thereof. Not like Leofricus Abbot of S. Alban, who would scarce admit any into his Covent though well deserving, except he was a * Math. Paris. in 23. Abbot. S. Alban. pag. 42. Gentleman born. He more respects literature in a scholar, then great men's letters for him. A learned Master of a college in Cambridge (since made a reverend Bishop, and, to the great grief of good men and great loss of God's Church, lately deceased) refused a Mandate for choosing of a worthless man fellow. And when it was expected, that at the least he should have been outed of his Mastership for this his contempt, King James highly commended him, and encouraged him ever after to follow his own conscience, when the like occasion should be given him. He winds up the Tenants to make good music, 5 but not to break them. Sure Colledge-lands were never given to fat the Tenants and starve the scholars, but that both might comfortably subsist. Yea generally I hear the Muses commended for the best Landladies, and a Colledge-lease is accounted but as the worst kind of freehold. 6 He is observant to do all due right to benefactors. If not piety, policy would dictate this unto him. And though he respects not benefactors kinsmen, when at their first admission they count themselves born heirs apparent to all preferment which the house can heap on them, and therefore grow lazy & idle; yet he counts their alliance, seconded with mediocrity of desert, a strong title to Colledge-advancement. 7 He counts it lawful to enrich himself, but in subordination to the college good. Not like Varus, governor of Syria, who came poor into the country, and found it rich, but departed thence rich, and left the country poor. Methinks 'tis an excellent commendation which Trinity college in Cambridge in her records bestows on doctor Still once Master thereof. Se ferebat Patremfamilias providum, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, nec Collegio gravis fuit aut onerosus. 8 He disdains to nourish dissension amongst the members of his house. Let machiavil maxim, Divide & regnabis, if offering to enter into a Colledge-gate, sink thorough the grate, and fall down with the dirt. For besides that the fomenting of such discords agrees not with a good conscience, each party will watch advantages, and Pupils will often be made to suffer for their tutor's quarrels: Studium partium will be magna pars studiorum, and the college have more rents than revenues. 9 He scorneth the plot, to make only dunces Fellows, to the end he may himself command in chief. As thinking that they who know nothing, will do any thing, and so he shall be a figure amongst cyphers, a be amongst drones. Yet oftentimes such Masters are justly met with, and they find by experience, that the dullest horses are not easiest to be reined. But our Master endeavours so to order his elections, that every Scholar may be fit to make a Fellow, and every Fellow a Master. CHAP. 14. The life of Dr. METCALF. NIcholas Metcalf doctor of Divinity, extracted out of an ancient and numerous family of Gentry in Yorkshire, was Archdeacon of Rochester, & Chaplain to John Fisher the Bishop thereof; by whom this our doctor was employed to issue forth the moneys for the building of S. John's college in Cambridge. For Margaret Countess of Richmond and Derby intending to graft S. John's college into the old stock of S. John's hospital, referred all to the Bishop of Rochester, and he used Metcalf as an agent in all proceed which did concern that Foundation: which will infer him to be both a wise and an honest man. Some make him to be but meanly * Ascham. Schoolmaster, 2. Book, fol. 47. learned; and * Lively in his Chron. of Persian Monarch. p. 196. one telleth us a long story how a Sophister put a fallacy upon him, à sensu diviso ad sensum compositum, and yet the doctors dim eyes could not discern it. But such trifles were beneath him; and what wonder is it if a general long used in governing an army, hath forgotten his school-play, and Fencers rules, to put by every thrust? Doubtless, had not his learning been sufficient, Bishop Fisher, a great clerk himself, would not have placed him to govern the college. But we know that some count all others but dry scholars, whose learning runneth in a different channel from their own: and it is possible, that the great distance betwixt men in matter of Religion might hinder the new learning in one to see the old learning in the other. But grant that Metcalf, with Themistocles, could not fiddle, yet he could make a little city a great one: though dull in himself, he could whet others by his encouragement. He found the college spending scarce two hundred marks by the year, he left it spending a * Ascham. in loco priùs citato. thousand marks and more. For he not only procured and settled many donations, and by-foundations (as we term them) of Fellowships, and Scholarships, founded by other; but was a benefactor himself, Pro certis ornamentis & structuris in Capella, & pro aedificatione sex Camerarum à tergo Coquinae, etc. as it is evidenced in the college books. He counted the college his own home, and therefore cared not what cost he bestowed on it: not like those Masters, who making their colleges as steps to higher advancement will trample on them to raise up themselves, and using their wings to fly up to their own honour, cannot afford to spread them to brood their college. But the thriving of the nourcery, is the best argument to prove the skill and care of the nurse. See what store of worthy men the house in his time did yield: Statesmen. William Cecil, Lord Burly, Sr. John Cheek, Walter Haddon. Ralph Bain, Bishop of Coventrie and Lichfield John Christopherson, Bishop of Chichester, Robert Horn, Bishop of Winton, James Pilkinton, Bishop of Duresme, John tailor, Bishop of Lincoln, Thomas Watson. Bishop of Lincoln. Learned writers. Roger Ascham, George * Pi●zaeus de Scriptor. Angli. pag. 773. Bullock, Roger * Baleus de Scriptor. Anglicanis. Hutchinson, Alban Langdale, John Seaton. Learned Men. Hugh Fitz-Herbert, William Jreland, Laurence Pilkinton, — Tomson, Henry Wright. With very many more. For though I dare not say that all these were old enough to bear fruit in metcalves time, yet sure I am by him they were inoculated, and in his days admitted into the college. Yet for all these his deserts Metcalf in his old age was expelled the college, and driven out when he could scarce go. A new generation grew up (advanced by him) whose active spirits stumbled at his gravity (young seamen do count ballast needless yea burdensome in a ship) and endeavoured his removal. It appears not what particular fault they laid to his charge. Some think that the Bishop of Rochester his good lord being put to death, occasioned his ruin, fisher's misfortune being metcalves highest misdemeanour. He sunk with his Patron, and when his sun was set it was presently night with him: for according to the Spanish proverb, * Yrà la s●ga con el calderon. where goes the bucket, there goes the rope, where the principal miscarries, all the dependants fall with him. Others conceive it was for his partiality in preferring Northern men, as if in his compass there were no points but such only as looked to the North, advancing alone his own countrymen, and more respecting their need then deserts. Indeed long * 1446. Manuscrip Hutch●●. Coll. R●gal. before, I find William Millington first Provost of King's college put out of his place, for his partiality in electing Yorkshire men. But herein Metcalf is sufficiently justified: for he found Charity hottest in the cold country, Northern men were most * Ascham. in loco citato. partial (saith one) in giving lands to the college, for the furtherance of learning. Good reason therefore Northern Scholars should be most watered there, where Northern benefactors reigned most. Well, good old Metcalf must forsake the House. Methinks the blushing bricks seem ashamed of their ingratitudes, and each door, window, and casement in the college, was a mouth to plead for him. But what shall we say? Mark generally the grand deservers in States, and you shall find them lose their lustre before they end their life. The world, out of covetousness to save charges to pay them their wages, quarrelling with them, as if an over-merit were an offence. And whereas some impute this to the malignant influence of the heavens, I ascribe it rather to a pestilent vapour out of the earth; I mean, That rather men than stars are to be blamed for it. He was twenty years' Master, and on the 4 day of June 1537. went out of his office, and it seems died soon after: his Epitaph is fastened on a piece of brass on the wall, in the Colledge-Chappell. We must not forget that all who were great doers in his expulsion, were great sufferers afterwards, and died all in great * Omnes qui Metcalfi excludendi autores exstiterunt, multis adversae fortunae procellis (sive divinâ ultione seu fato suo) jactati, de gradu dejecti & deturbati, i●glorii mortem obierunt exemplo memorabili, Caius lib. 1. Hist. Cantab●. pag. 75, & 76. misery. There is difference betwixt prying into God's secrets, and being stark blind: Yea I question whether we are not bound to look where God points by so memorable a judgement, showing that those branches most justly withered which plucked up their own root. CHAP. 16. The good Schoolmaster. THere is scarce any profession in the commonwealth more necessary, which is so slightly performed. The reasons whereof I conceive to be these: first, young scholars make this calling their refuge, yea perchance before they have taken any degree in the University, commence Schoolmasters in the country, as if nothing else were required to set up this profession but only a rod and a ferula. Secondly, others who are able use it only as a passage to better preferment, to patch the rents in their present fortune, till they can provide a new one, and betake themselves to some more gainful calling. Thirdly, they are disheartened from doing their best with the miserable reward which in some places they receive, being Masters to the children, and slaves to their parents. Fourthly, being grown rich, they grow negligent, and scorn to touch the school, but by the proxy of an Usher. But see how well our Schoolmaster behaves himself. His genius inclines him with delight to this profession. Maxim 1 Some men had as lief be schoolboyes as Schoolmasters, to be tied to the school as Cooper's Dictionary, and Scapula's Lexicon are chained to the desk therein; and though great scholars, and skilful in other arts, are bunglers in this: But God of his goodness hath fitted several men for several callings, that the necessities of Church, and State, in all conditions may be provided for. So that he who beholds the fabric thereof may say, God hewed out this stone, and appointed it to lie in this very place, for it would fit none other so well, and here it doth most excellent. And thus God mouldeth some for a Schoolmasters life, undertaking it with desire and delight, and discharging it with dexterity and happy success. 2 He studieth his scholars natures as carefully as they their books; and ranks their dispositions into several forms. And though it may seem difficult for him in a great school to descend to all particulars, yet experienced Schoolmasters may quickly make a Grammar of boy's natures, and reduce them all (saving some few exceptions) to these general rules. 1 Those that are ingenious and industrious. The conjunction of two such Planets in a youth presage much good unto him. To such a lad a frown may be a whipping, and a whipping a death; yea where their Master whips them once, shame whips them all the week after. Such natures he useth with all gentleness. 2 Those that are ingenious and idle. These think with the hare in the fable, that running with snails (so they count the rest of their schoolfellows) they shall come soon enough to the Post, though sleeping a good while before their starting. Oh, a good rod would finely take them napping. 3 Those that are dull and diligent. Wines the stronger they be the more lees they have when they are new. Many boys are muddy-headed till they be clarified with age, and such afterwards prove the best. Bristol diamonds are both bright, and squared and pointed by Nature, and yet are soft and worthless; whereas orient ones in India are rough and rugged naturally. Hard rugged and dull natures of youth acquit themselves afterwards the jewels of the country, and therefore their dulness at first is to be born with, if they be diligent. That Schoolmaster deserves to be beaten himself, who beats Nature in a boy for a fault. And I question whether all the whipping in the world can make their parts, which are naturally sluggish, rise one minute before the hour Nature hath appointed. 4 Those that are invincibly dull and negligent also. Correction may reform the latter, not amend the former. All the whetting in the world can never set a rasours' edge on that which hath no steel in it. Such boys he consigneth over to other professions. Shipwrights and boatmakers will choose those crooked pieces of timber, which other carpenters refuse. Those may make excellent merchants and mechanics which will not serve for Scholars. He is able, 3 diligent, and methodical in his teaching; not leading them rather in a circle then forwards. He minces his precepts for children to swallow, hanging clogs on the nimbleness of his own soul, that his Scholars may go along with him. He is, 4 and will be known to be an absolute Monarch in his school. If cockering Mothers proffer him money to purchase their sons an exemption from his rod (to live as it were in a peculiar, out of their master's jurisdiction) with disdain he refuseth it, and scorns the late custom in some places of commuting whipping into money, and ransoming boys from the rod at a set price. If he hath a stubborn youth, correction-proof, he debaseth not his authority by contesting with him, but fairly if he can puts him away before his obstinacy hath infected others. He is moderate in inflicting deserved correction. 5 Many a Shoolmaster better answereth the name of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, rather tearing his scholar's flesh with whipping, then giving them good education. No wonder if his scholars hate the Muses, being presented unto them in the shapes of fiends and furies. Junius complains de insolenti * In his life, of his own writing. carnificina of his Schoolmaster, by whom conscindebatur flagris septies aut octies in dies singulos. Yea hear the lamentable verses of poor Tusser in his own life: From Paul's I went, to Eton sent, To learn straightways the Latin phrase, Where fifty three stripes given to me At once I had. For fault but small, or none at all, It came to pass thus beat I was; See, * Nich. Vdal Schoolmaster of Eton in the reign of King Henry the eight. udal, see the mercy of thee To me poor lad. Such an Orbilius mars more Scholars than he makes: Their Tyranny hath caused many tongues to stammer, which spoke plain by nature, and whose stuttering at first was nothing else but fears quavering on their speech at their master's presence. And whose mauling them about their heads hath dulled those who in quickness exceeded their Master. 6 He makes his school free to him, who sues to him in forma pauperis. And surely Learning is the greatest alms that can be given. But he is a beast, who because the poor Scholar cannot pay him his wages, pays the Scholar in his whipping. Rather are diligent lads to be encouraged with all excitements to Learning. This minds me of what I have heard concerning Mr. Bust, that worthy late Schoolmaster of Eton, who would never suffer any wand'ring begging Scholar (such as justly the Statute hath ranked in the forefront of Rogues) to come into his school, but would thrust him out with earnestness (however privately charitable unto him) lest his schoolboys should be disheartened from their books, by seeing some Scholars after their studying in the University preferred to beggary. 7 He spoils not a good school to make thereof a bad college, therein to teach his scholar's logic. For besides that logic may have an action of trespass against Grammar for encroaching on her liberties, syllogisms are solecisms taught in the school, and oftentimes they are forced afterwards in the University to unlearn the fumbling skill they had before. Out of his school he is no whit pedantical in carriage or discourse; 8 contenting himself to be rich in Latin, though he doth not jingle with it in every company wherein he comes. To conclude, Let this amongst other motives make Schoolmasters careful in their place, that the eminencies of their Scholars have commended the memories of their Schoolmasters to posterity, who otherwise in obscurity had altogether been forgotten. Who had ever heard of R. * Grant. in vit. Ascham. pag. 629. Bond in Lancashire but for the breeding of learned Ascham his Scholar? or of * ●shton in the life of Whitaker, pag. 29 Hartgrave in Brundly school, in the same County, but because he was the first did teach worthy doctor Whitaker. Nor do I honour the memory of Mulcaster for any thing so much, as for his Scholar, that gulf of learning, Bishop Andrews. This made the Athenians, the day before the great feast of Theseus their founder, to sacrifice a ram to the memory of * Plutar. in vit. Thes●i. Conidas his Schoolmaster that first instructed him. CHAP. 17. The Good Merchant IS one who by his trading claspeth the island to the continent, and one country to another. An excellent gardener, who makes England bear wine, and oil, and spices; yea herein goes beyond Nature in causing that Omnis fert omnia tellus. He wrongs neither himself, nor the Commonwealth, nor private chapmen which buy commodities of him. As for his behaviour towards the Commonwealth, it fare surpasses my skill to give any Rules thereof; only this I know, that to export things of necessity, and to bring in foreign needless toys, makes a rich Merchant, and a poor kingdom: for the State loseth her radical moisture, and gets little better than sweat in exchange, except the necessaries which are exported be exceeding plentiful, which then though necessary in their own nature become superfluous through their abundance. We will content ourselves to give some general advertisements concerning his behaviour towards his chapmen, whom he useth well in the quantity, quality, and price of the commodities he sells them. Maxim 1. He wrongs not the buyer in Number, Weight, or Measure. These are the landmarks of all trading, which must not be removed: for such cozenage were worse than open felony. First, because they rob a man of his purse, & never bid him stand. Secondly, because highway-thieves defy, but these pretend justice. Thirdly, as much as lies in their power, they endeavour to make God accessary to their cozenage, deceiving by pretending his weights. For God is the principal clerk of the market, All the * Prov. 16.11. weights of the bag are his work. 2 He never warrants any ware for good but what is so indeed. Otherwise he is a thief, and may be a murderer, if selling such things as are applied inwardly. Besides, in such a case he counts himself guilty if he selleth such wares as are bad, though without his knowledge, if avouching them for good; because he may, professeth, & is bound to be Master in his own mystery, and therefore in conscience must recompense the buyers loss, except he gives him an Item to buy it at his own adventure. 3 He either tells the faults in his ware, or abates proportionably in the price he demands: for then the low value shows the viciousness of it. Yet commonly when Merchants depart with their commodities, we hear (as in funeral orations) all the virtues but none of the faults thereof. 4 He never demands out of distance of the price he intends to take: If not always within the touch, yet within the reach of what he means to sell for. Now we must know there be four several prices of vendible things. First, the Price of the market, which ebbs and flows according to the plenty or scarcity of coin, commodities, and chapmen. Secondly, the Price of friendship, which perchance is more giving than selling, and therefore not so proper at this time. Thirdly, the Price of fancy, as twenty pounds or more for a dog or hawk, when no such inherent worth can naturally be in them, but by the buyers and sellers fancy reflecting on them. Yet I believe the money may be lawfully taken. First, because the seller sometimes on those terms is as loath to forgo it, as the buyer is willing to have it. And I know no standard herein whereby men's affections may be measured. Secondly, it being a matter of pleasure, and men able and willing, let them pay for it, Volenti non fit injuria. Lastly, there is the Price of cozenage, which our Merchant from his heart detests and abhors. He makes not advantage of his chapmans' ignorance, 5 chief if referring himself to his honesty: where the cellar's conscience is all the buyers skill, who makes him both seller and judge, so that he doth not so much ask as order what he must pay. When one told old Bishop Latimer that the Cutler had cozened him, in making him pay twopences for a knife not (in those days) worth a penny; No, quoth Latimer, he cozened not me but his own conscience. On the other side S. * Lib. 13. de Trinitat. c. 3. Augustine tells us of a seller, who out of ignorance asked for a book fare less than it was worth, and the buyer (conceive himself to be the man if you please) of his own accord gave him the full value thereof. He makes not the buyer pay the shot for his prodigality; 6 as when the Merchant through his own ignorance or ill husbandry hath bought dear, he will not bring in his unnecessary expenses on the buyers score: and in such a case he is bound to sell cheaper than he bought. Selling by retail he may justify the taking of greater gain: 7 because of his care, pains, and cost of fetching those wares from the fountain, and in parcelling and dividing them. Yet because retailers trade commonly with those who have least skill what they buy, and commonly sell to the poorer sort of people, they must be careful not to grate on their necessity. But how long shall I be retailing out rules to this Merchant? It would employ a Casuist an apprenticeship of years: take our saviour's wholesale rule, Whatsoever ye would have men do unto you, do you unto them; for this is the Low, and the Prophets. CHAP. 18. The good Yeoman IS a Gentleman in Ore, whom the next age may see refined; and is the wax capable of a gentile impression, when the Prince shall stamp it. Wise Solon (who accounted * Herodotus lib. 1. pag. 12 Tellus the Athenian the most happy man for living privately on his own lands) would surely have pronounced the English Yeomanry, a fortunate condition, living in the temperate Zone, betwixt greatness and want, an estate of people almost peculiar to England. France and Italy are like a die, which hath no points betwixt sink and ace, Nobility and Pesantry. Their walls though high, must needs be hollow, wanting filling-stones. Indeed Germany hath her boors, like our Yeomen, but by a tyrannical appropriation of Nobility to some few ancient families, their Yeomen are excluded from ever rising higher to clarify their bloods. In England the Temple of Honour is bolted against none, who have passed through the Temple of Virtue: nor is a capacity to be gentile denied to our Yeoman, who thus behaves himself. Maxim 1 He wears russet clothes, but makes golden payment, having tin in his buttons, and silver in his pocket. If he chance to appear in clothes above his rank, it is to grace some great man with his service, and then he blusheth at his own bravery. Otherwise he is the surest landmark, whence foreigners may take aim of the ancient English customs; the Gentry more floating after foreign fashions. In his house he is bountiful both to strangers, 2 and poor people. Some hold, when Hospitality died in England, she gave her last groan amongst the Yeomen of Kent. And still at our yeoman's table you shall have as many joints as dishes: No meat disguised with strange sauces; no straggling joint of a sheep in the midst of a pasture of grass, beset with salads on every side, but solid substantial food; no serviters (more nimble with their hands then the guests with their teeth) take away meat, before stomaches are taken away. Here you have that which in itself is good, made better by the store of it, and best by the welcome to it. He hath a great stroke in making a Knight of the shire. 3 Good reason, for he makes a whole line in the subsidie-book, where whatsoever he is rated he pays without any regret, not caring how much his purse is let blood, so it be done by the advice of the physicians of the State. He seldom goes fare abroad, 4 and his credit stretcheth further than his travel. He goes not to London, but se defendendo, to save himself of a fine, being returned of a jury, where seeing the King once, he prays for him ever afterwards. In his own country he is a main man in juries. 5 Where if the Judge please to open his eyes in matter of law, he needs not to be led by the nose in matters of fact. He is very observant of the judge's item, when it follows the truths inprimis; otherwise (though not mutinous in a jury) he cares not whom he displeaseth so he pleaseth his own conscience. He improveth his land to a double value by his good husbandry. 6 Some grounds that wept with water, or frowned with thorns, by draining the one, and clearing the other, he makes both to laugh and sing with corn. By marvel and limestones burned he bettereth his ground, and his industry worketh miracles, by turning stones into bread. Conquest and good husbandry both enlarge the King's Dominions: The one by the sword, making the acres more in number; the other by the plough, making the same acres more in value. Solomon saith, The King himself is maintained by husbandry. Pythis * Plutarch. de virtut. mulierum, exemplo ultimo. a King having discovered rich mines in his kingdom, employed all his people in digging of them, whence tilling was wholly neglected, insomuch as a great famine ensued. His Queen, sensible of the calamities of the country, invited the King her husband to dinner, as he came home hungry from overseeing his workmen in the mines. She so contrived it, that the bread and meat were most artificially made of gold; and the King was much delighted with the conceit thereof, till at last he called for real meat to satisfy his hunger. Nay, said the Queen, if you employ all your subjects in your mines, you must expect to feed upon gold, for nothing else can your kingdom afford. 7 In time of famine he is the Joseph of the country, and keeps the poor from starving. Then he tameth his stacks of corn, which not his covetousness but providence hath reserved for time of need, and to his poor neighbours abateth somewhat of the high price of the market. The neighbour gentry court him for his acquaintance, which he either modestly waveth, or thankfully accepteth, but no way greedily desireth. He insults not on the ruins of a decayed Gentleman, but pities and relieves him: and as he is called Goodman, he desires to answer to the name, and to be so indeed. 8 In war, though he serveth on foot, he is ever mounted on an high spirit: as being a slave to none, and a subject only to his own Prince. Innocence and independence make a brave spirit: Whereas otherwise one must ask his leave to be valiant on whom he depends. Therefore if a State run up all to Noblemen and Gentlemen, so that the husbandmen be only mere labourers, or cottagers, (which * Bacon's Henry. 7. pag. 74. one calls but housed beggars) it may have good Cavalry, but never good bands of foot; so that their armies will be like those birds called Apodes, without feet, always only flying on their wings of horse. Wherefore to make good Infantry, it requireth men bred, not in a servile or indigent fashion, but in some free and plentiful manner. Wisely therefore did that knowing Prince, King Henry the seventh, provide laws for the increase of his Yeomanry, that his kingdom should not be like to Coppice-woods, where the staddles being left too thick, all runs to bushes and briers, and there's little clean underwood. For enacting, that houses used to husbandry should be kept up with a competent proportion of land, he did secretly sow Hydra's teeth, whereupon (according to the poet's fiction) should rise up armed men for the service of this kingdom. Chap. 19 The handicraftsman. HE is a necessary member in a commonwealth: For though Nature, which hath armed most other creatures, sent man naked into the world, yet in giving him hands and wit to use them, in effect she gave him Shells, Scales, Paws, Claws, Horns, Tusks, with all offensive and defensive weapons of Beasts, Fish and Fowl, which by the help of his hands in imitation he may provide for himself, and herein the skill of our Artisan doth consist. His trade is such whereby he provides things necessary for mankind. Maxim 1. What S. * 1. Cor. 12. Paul saith of the natural, is also true of the politic body, those members of the body are much more necessary which seem most feeble. Mean trades for profit, are most necessary in the State; and a house may better want a gallery then a kitchen. The Philistines knew this when they massacred all the smiths in Israel (who might worse be spared then all the usurers therein) and whose hammers nail the Commonwealth together, being necessary both in peace and war. 2 Or else his trade contributeth to man's lawful pleasure. God is not so hard a master, but that he alloweth his servant's sauce (besides hunger) to eat with their meat. 3 But in no case will he be of such a trade which is a mere Pander to man's lust; and only serves their wantonness (which is pleasure run stark mad) and foolish curiosity. Yet are there too many extant of such professions, which, one would think, should stand in daily fear lest the world should turn wise, and so all their trades be cashiered, but that (be it spoken to their shame) 'tis as safe a tenure to hold a livelihood by men's riot, as by their necessity. 4 The wares he makes show good to the eye, but prove better in the use. For he knows if he sets his mark (the Tower-stamp of his credit) on any bad wares, he sets a deeper brand on his own conscience. Nothing hath more debased the credit of our English cloth beyond the seas, than the deceitfulness in making them, since the Fox hath crept under the fleece of the Sheep. 5 By his ingenuousness he leaves his art better than he found it. Herein the Hollanders are excellent, where children get their living, when but newly they have gotten their life, by their industry. Indeed Nature may seem to have made those Netherlanders the younger brethren of mankind, allowing them little land, and that also standing in daily fear of a double deluge, of the sea and the Spaniard: but such is their painfulness and ingenuity, hating laziness as much as they love liberty, that what commodities grow not on their country by nature they graft on it by art, and have wonderfully improved all making of Manufactures, stuffs, Clocks, Watches: these latter at first were made so great and heavy, it was rather a burden then an ornament to wear them, though since watches have been made as light and little, as many that were them make of their time. He is wiling to communicate his skill to posterity. 6 An invention though found is lost if not imparted. But as it is reported of some old toads, that before their death they suck up the jelly in their own heads (which otherwise would be hardened into a precious stone) out of spite, that men should receive no benefit thereby; so some envious Artisans will have their cunning die with them, that none may be the better for it, and had rather all mankind should lose, than any man gain by them. He seldom attaineth to any very great estate: 7 except his trade hath some outlets and excursions into wholesale and merchandise; otherwise mere Artificers cannot heap up much wealth. It is difficult for gleaners, without stealing whole sheaves, to fill a barn. His chief wealth consisteth in enough, and that he can live comfortably, and leave his children the inheritance of their education. Yet he is a grand benefactor to the Commonwealth. 8 England in former ages, like a dainty dame, partly out of state, but more out of laziness, would not suckle the fruit of her own body, to make the best to battle and improve her own commodities, but put them out to nurse to the Netherlanders, who were well paid for their pains. In those days the Sword and the Plough so took up all men's employments that clothing was wholly neglected, and scarce any other webs to be found in houses, than what the spiders did make. But since she hath seen and mended her error, making the best use of her own wool; and indeed the riches of a kingdom doth consist in driving the home-commodities thereof as far as they will go, working them to their very perfection, employing more handicrafts thereby. The sheep feeds more with his fleece then his flesh, doing the one but once, but the other once a year, many families subsisting by the working thereof. Let not meaner persons be displeased with reading those verses wherewith Queen Elizabeth herself was so highly affected, when in the one and twentieth year of her * Holinshed. pag. 1290. reign she came in progress to Norwich, wherein a child, representing the state of the City, spoke to her highness as followeth, Most gracious Prince, undoubted sovereign Queen, Our only joy, next God, and chief defence, In this small show our whole estate is seen, The wealth we have, we find proceeds from hence: The idle hand hath here no place to feed, The painful wight hath still to serve his need. Again, our seat denies us traffic here, The sea too near decides us from the rest: So weak we were within this dozen year, That care did quench the courage of the best: But good advice hath taught these * Sixteen little children were there presented to her majesty, eight spinning worsted, and eight knitting yarn hose. little hands To rend in twain the force of pining bands. From combed wool we draw this slender thread, From thence the looms have dealing with the same, And thence again in order do proceed These several works which skilful art doth frame: And all to drive dame Need into her cave Our heads and hands together laboured have. We bought before the things which now we sell: These slender imps, their works do pass the waves: God's peace and thine we hold, and prosper well, Of every mouth the hands the charges saves: Thus through thy help, and aid of power divine Doth Norwich live, whose hearts and goods are thine. We have cause to hope that as we have seen the cities Dornicks and Arras brought over into England, so posterity may see all Flaunders brought hither, I mean that their works shall be here imitated, and that either our land shall be taught to bear foreign commodities, or our people taught to forbear the using of them. I should now come to give the description of the Day-Labourer (of whom we have only a dearth in a plentiful harvest) but seeing his character is so co-incident with the hired servant, it may well be spared. And now we'll rise from the hand to the arm, and come to describe the soldier. CHAP. 19 The good soldier. A soldier is one of a lawful, necessary, commendable, and honourable profession; yea God himself may seem to be one free of the company of soldiers, in that he styleth himself, A man of war. Now though many hate soldiers as the twigs of the rod war, wherewith God scourgeth wanton countries into repentance, yet is their calling so needful, that were not some soldiers we must be all soldiers, daily employed to defend our own, the world would grow so licentious. He keepeth a clear and quiet conscience in his breast, Maxim 1 which otherwise will gnaw out the roots of all valour. For vicious soldiers are compassed with enemies on all sides, their foes without them, and an ambush within them of fleshly lusts, which, as S. Peter saith, fight against the soul. None fit to go to war, than those who have made their peace with God in Christ; for such a man's soul is an impregnable fort: It cannot be scaled with ladders, for it reacheth up to heaven; nor be broken by batteries, for it is walled with brass; nor undermined by pioneers, for he is founded on a rock; nor betrayed by treason, for faith itself keeps it; nor be burnt by granadoes, for he can quench the fiery darts of the devil; nor be forced by famine, for a good conscience is a continual feast. 2 He chief avoids those sins, to which soldiers are taxed as most subject. Namely common swearing, which impaireth one's credit by degrees, and maketh all his promises not to be trusted; for he who for no profit will sinne against God, for small profit will trespass against his neighbour; drinking, whoring. When valiant Zisca, near Pilsen in Bohemia, fought against his enemies, he commanded the women which followed his army, to cast their kerchiefs and partlets on the ground, wherein their enemies being entangled by their spurs (for though horsemen, they were forced to alight, and fight on foot, through the roughness of the place) were slain before they could * Fox Acts and Monum pag. 646. unloose their feet. A deep moral may be gathered hence, and women have often been the nets to catch and ensnare the souls of many martial men. 3 He counts his Princes lawful command to be his sufficient warrant to fight. In a defensive war, when his country is * In publicos hostes omnis homo miles, Tertull. Apol. cap. 2. hostilely invaded, 'tis pity but his neck should hang in suspense with his conscience that doubts to fight; in offensive war, though the case be harder, the common soldier is not to dispute, but do * Amesius. Cas. Conscien. lib. 5. cap. 33. his Prince's command. Otherwise Princes, before they leavie an army of soldiers, must first levy an army of Casuists and confessors to satisfy each scrupulous soldier in point of right to the war; and the most cowardly will be the most conscientious, to multiply doubts eternally. Besides, causes of war are so complicated and perplexed, so many things falling in the prosecution, as may alter the original state thereof, and private soldiers have neither calling nor ability to dive into such mysteries. But if the conscience of a counsellor or Commander in chief remonstrates in himself the unlawfulness of this war, he is bound humbly to represent to his Prince his reasons against it. He esteemeth all hardship easy through hopes of victory. 4 Moneys are the sinews of war, yet if these sinews should chance to be shrunk, and pay casually fall short, he takes a fit of this convulsion patiently; he is contented though in cold weather his hands must be their own fire, and warm themselves with working; though he be better armed against their enemies then the weather, and his corslet wholler than his clothes; though he hath more Fasts and vigils in his almanac then the Romish Church did ever enjoin: he patiently endureth drought for desire of honour, and one thirst quencheth another. In a word, though much indebted to his own back and belly, and unable to pay them, yet he hath credit with himself, and confidently runs on ticket with himself, hoping the next victory will discharge all scores with advantage. He looks at and also through his wages, 5 at God's glory, and his countries' good. He counts his pay an honourable addition, but no valuable compensation for his pains: for what proportion is there betwixt four shillings aweek, and adventuring his life? I cannot see how their calling can be lawful, who for greater wages will fight on any side against their own King and cause; yea as false witnesses were hired against our blessed Mat. 28.15. Saviour (money will make the mouths of men plead against their Maker) so were the Giants now in the world, who, as the Poets feigned, made war against God himself, and should they offer great pay, they would not want mercenary soldiers to assist them. 6 He attends with all readiness on the commands of his general; rendering up his own judgement in obedience to the will and pleasure of his Leader, and by an implicit faith believing all is best which he enjoineth; lest otherwise he be served as the French soldier was in Scotland some eighty years since, who first mounted the bulwark of a fort besieged, whereupon ensued the gaining of the fort: but Marescal de * Hollman in his book of the ambassador. Thermes, the French general, first knighted him, and then hanged him within an hour after, because he had done it without commandment. 7 He will not in a bravery expose himself to needless peril. 'Tis madness to holloe in the ears of sleeping temptation, to awaken it against one's self, or to go out of his calling to find a danger: But if a danger meets him (as he walks in his vocation) he neither stands still, starts aside, nor steps backward, but either goes over it with valour, or under it with patience. All single Duels he detesteth, as having first no command in God's Word; yea this arbitrary deciding causes by the sword subverts the fundamental Laws of the Scripture: Secondly, no example in God's Word, that of David and Goliath moving in an higher Sphere, as extraordinary: Thirdly, it tempts God to work a Miracle for man's pleasure, and to invert the course of nature, whereby otherwise the stronger will beat the weaker: Fourthly, each Dueller challengeth his King as unable or unwilling legally to right him, and therefore he usurps the office himself: Fifthly, if slaying, he hazards his neck to the halter; if slain, in heat of malice, without repentance, he adventures his soul to the devil. Object. But there are some intricate cases (as in Titles of land) which cannot otherwise be decided. Seeing therefore that in such difficulties, the right in question cannot be delivered by the midwifery of any judicial proceed, than it must (with Julius Caesar in his mother's belly) be cut out and be determined by the sword. Answ. Such a right may better be lost, then to light a candle from hell to find it out, if the Judges cannot find a middle way to part in betwixt them. Besides, in such a case duels are no medium proportionatum to find out the truth, as never appointed by God to that purpose. Nor doth it follow that he hath the best in right, who hath the best in fight; for he that reads the lawfulness of actions by their events, holds the wrong end of the book upwards. Object. But suppose an army of thirty thousand infidels ready to fight against ten thousand Christians, yet so that at last the infidels are contented to try the day upon the valour of a single Champion; whether in such a case may not a Christian undertake to combat with him, the rather because the triple odds before is the reby reduced to terms of equality, and so the victory made more probable. Answ. The victory was more probable before; because it is more likely God will bless his own means, then means of man's appointing: and it is his prerogative to give victory, as well by few as by many. Probability of conquest is not to be measured by the eye of humane reason, contrary to the square of God's Word. Besides, I question whether it be lawful for a Christian army to derive their right of fight God's battles to any single man. For the title every man hath to promote God's glory, is so invested and inherent in his own particular person, that he cannot pass it over to another. None may appear in God's service by an attorney; and when Religion is at the stake, there must be no lookers on (except impotent people, who also help by their prayers) and every one is bound to lay his shoulders to the work. Lastly, would to God no Duels might be fought till this case came into question. But how many daily fall out upon a more false, slight, and flitting ground, than the sands of Calais whereon they fight: especially, seeing there is an honourable Court appointed, or some other equivalent way, for taking up such quarrels, and allowing reparations to the party injured. Object. But Reputation is so spiritual a thing it is inestimable, and Honour falls not under valuation: Besides, to complain to the civil Magistrate showeth no manhood, but is like a child's crying to his father, when he is only beaten by his equal; and my enemies forced acknowledgement of his fault (enjoined him by the Court) shows rather his submission to the laws then to me. But if I can civilize his rudeness by my sword, and chastise him into submission, than he sings his penitential song in the true tune, and it comes naturally indeed. Answ. Honourable persons in that Court are the most competent Judges of Honour, and though Credit be as tender as the apple of the eye, yet such curious oculists can cure a blemish therein. And why, I pray, is it more disgrace to repair to the Magistrate for redress in Reputation, then to have recourse to him in actions of trespass? The pretence of a forced submission is nothing, all submissions having aliquid violentum in them; and even the Evangelicall repentance of God's servants hath a mixture of legal terror frighting them thereto. Object. But Gownmen speak out of an antipathy they bear to fight: should we be ruled by them, we must break all our swords into penknives; and Lawyers, to enlarge their gains, send prohibitions to remove suits from the Camps to their Courts: Divines are not to be consulted with herein, as ignorant of the principles of Honour. Answ. Indeed Honour is a word of course in the talk of roaring boys, and pure enough in itself, except their mouths soil it by often using of it: But indeed God is the fountain of Honour, God's Word the Charter of Honour, and godly men the best Judges of it; nor is it any stain of cowardliness for one to fear hell and damnation. We may therefore conclude that the laws of Duelling, as the laws of drinking, had their original from the devil; and therefore the declining of needless quarrels in our soldier, no abatement of Honour. I commend his discretion and valour, who walking in London-streetes met a gallant, who cried to him a pretty distance beforehand, I will have the wall? Yea (answered he) and take the house too, if you can but agree with the Landlord. But when God, and his Prince, calls for him, our soldier Had rather die ten times then once survive his credit. 8 Though life be sweet, it shall not flatter the palate of his soul, as with the sweetness of life to make him swallow down the bitterness of an eternal disgrace: He begrutcheth not to get to his side a probability of victory by the certainty of his own death, and flieth from nothing so much as from the mention of flying. And though some say he is a madman that will purchase Honour so dearly with his blood, as that he cannot live to enjoy what he hath bought; our soldier knows that he shall possess the reward of his valour with God in heaven, and also making the world his executor, leave to it the rich inheritance of his memory. 9 Yet in some cases he counts it no disgrace to yield, where it is impossible to conquer; as when swarms of enemies crowd about him, so that he shall rather be stifled then wounded to death: In such a case if quarter be offered him, he may take it with more honour than the other can give it; and if he throws up his desperate game, he may happily win the next, whereas if he playeth it out to the last, he shall certainly lose it and himself. But if he be to fall into the hand of a barbarous enemy, whose giving him quarter is but repriving him for a more ignominious death, he had rather disburse his life at the present, then to take day to fall into the hands of such remorseless creditors. 10 He makes none the object of his cruelty, which cannot be the object of his fear. lions they say (except forced with hunger) will not pray on women and children, * Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 8. cap. 16. though I would wish none to try the truth hereof: the truly valiant will not hurt women or infants, nor will they be cruel to old men. What conquest is it to strike him up, who stands but on one leg, and hath the other foot in the grave? But arrant cowards (such as would conquer victory itself, if it should stand in their way as they fly) count themselves never evenly matched, except they have threefold odds on their side, and esteem their enemy never disarmed till they be dead. Such love to show a nature steeped in gall of passion, and display the ignoble tyranny of prevailing dastards: these being thus valiant against no resistance, will make no resistance when they meet with true valour. 11 He counts it murder to kill any in cold blood. Indeed in taking Cities by assault (especially when soldiers have suffered long in an hard siege) it is pardonable what present passion doth with a sudden thrust; but a premeditated backblow in cold blood is base. Some excuse there is for blood enraged, and no wonder if that scaldeth which boileth: but when men shall call a consultation in their soul, and issue thence a deliberate act, the more advised the deed is, the less advised it is, when men raise their own passions, and are not raised by them; specially if fair quarter be first granted; an alms which he who gives to day may crave to morrow; yea, he that hath the hilt in his hand in the morning, may have the point at his throat ere night. He doth not barbarously abuse the bodies of his dead enemies. 12 We find that Hercules was the * Plutarch. in vita Thes●●, Pagin. 1●. first (the most valiant are ever most merciful) that ever suffered his enemies to carry away their dead bodies, after they had been put to the sword. Belike before his time they cruelly cut the corpse in pieces, or cast them to the wild beasts. In time of plenty he provides for want hereafter. 13 Yet generally Soldier (as if they counted one Treasurer in an army were enough) so hate covetousness that they cannot affect providence for the future, and come home with more marks in their bodies then pence in their pockets. He is willing and joyful to embrace peace on good conditions. 14 The procreation of peace, and not the satisfying of men's lusts and liberties, is the end of war. Yet how many, having war for their possession, desire a perpetuity thereof! Wiser men than King Henry the eights fool use to cry in fair weather, whose harvest being only in storms, they themselves desire to raise them; wherefore fearing peace will starve, whom war hath fatted, and to render themselves the more useful they prolong discord to the utmost, and could wish when swords are once drawn that all scabbards might be cut asunder. 15 He is as quiet and painful in peace, as courageous in war. If he hath not gotten already enough whereon comfortably to subsist, he rebetakes himself to his former calling he had before the war began: the wielding of his sword hath not made him unwieldy to do any other work, and put his bones out of joint to take pains. Hence comes it to pass, that some take by-courses on the highways, and death, whom they honourably sought for in the field, meets them in a worse place. But we leave our soldier, seeking by his virtues to ascend from a private place, by the degrees of Sergeant, Lieutenant, Captain, colonel, till he comes to be a general, and then in the next book, God willing, you shall have his example. CHAP. 20. The good Sea-Captain. HIs Military part is concurrent with that of the soldier already described: He differs only in some Sea-properties, which we will now set down. Conceive him now in a Man of war, with his letters of mart, well armed victualled and appointed, and see how he acquits himself. Maxim 1 The more power he hath, the more careful he is not to abuse it. Indeed a Sea-captain is a King in the island of a ship, supreme Judge, above appeal, in causes civil and criminal, and is seldom brought to an account in Courts of Justice on land, for injuries done to his own men at sea. 2 He is careful in observing of the Lords day. He hath a watch in his heart though no bells in a steeple to proclaim that day by ringing to prayers. Sr Francis Drake * Manuscr. of Mr. Fortescu, who went with him. in three years sailing about the world lost one whole day, which was scarce considerable in so long time. 'Tis to be feared some Captains at sea lose a day every week, one in seven, neglecting the Sabbath. He is as pious and thankful when a tempest is past, 3 as devout when 'tis present: not clamorous to receive mercies, and tongue-tied to return thanks. Many mariners are calm in a storm▪ and storm in a calm, blustering with oaths. In a tempest it comes to their turn to be religious, whose piety is but a fit of the wind, and when that's allayed, their devotion is ended. Escaping many dangers makes him not presumptuous to run into them. 4 Not like those seamen who (as if their hearts were made of those rocks they have often sailed by) are so always in death they never think of it. These in their navigations observe that it is fare hotter under the Tropics in the coming to the Line, then under the Line itself, & in like manner they conceive that the fear & fancy in preparing for death is more terrible than death itself, which makes them by degrees desperately to contemn it. In taking a prize he most prizeth the men's lives whom he takes; 5 though some of them may chance to be Negroes or Savages. 'Tis the custom of some to cast them overboard, and there's an end of them: for the dumb fishes will tell no tales. But the murder is not so soon drowned as the men. What, is a brother by the half blood no kin? a Savage hath God to his father by creation, though not the Church to his mother, and God will revenge his innocent blood. But our Captain counts the image of God nevertheless his image cut in ebony as if done in ivory, and in the blackest moors he sees the representation of the King of heaven. In dividing the gains he wrongs none who took pains to get them. 6 Not shifting off his poor mariners with nothing, or giving them only the garbage of the prize, and keeping all the flesh to himself. In time of peace he quietly returns home, and turns not to the trade of Pirates, who are the worst sea-vermine, and the devils water-rats. 7 His voyages are not only for profit, but some for honour and knowledge; to make discoveries of new countries, imitating the worthy Peter Columbus. Before his time the world was cut off at the middle; Hercules Pillars (which indeed are the navel) being made the feet, and utmost bounds of the continent, till his successful industry enlarged it. Primus ab infusis quod terra emerserat undis Nuncius adveniens ipsa * Gen. 8.11. Columba fuit. Occiduis primus qui terram invenit in undis Nuncius adveniens ipse Columbus erat. Our Sea-captain is likewise ambitious to perfect what the other began. He counts it a disgrace, seeing all mankind is one family, sundry countries but several rooms, that we who dwell in the parlour (so he counts Europe) should not know the out-lodgings of the same house, and the world be scarce acquainted with itself before it be dissolved from itself at the day of judgement. 8 He daily sees, and duly considers Gods wonders in the deep. Tell me, ye Naturalists, who sounded the first march and retreat to the Tide, Hither shalt thou come, and no further? why doth not the water recover his right over the earth, being higher in nature? whence came the salt, and who first boiled it, which made so much brine? when the winds are not only wild in a storm, but even stark mad in an herricano, who is it that restores them again to their wits, and brings them asleep in a calm? who made the mighty whales, who swim in a sea of water, and have a sea of oil swimming in them? who first taught the water to imitate the creatures on land? so that the sea is the stable of horse-fish, the stall of kine-fish, the sty of hog-fish, the kennel of dog-fish, and in all things the sea the ape of the land. Whence grows the ambergris in the Sea? which is not so hard to find where it is, as to know what it is. Was not God the first shipwright? and all vessels on the water descended from the loins (or ribs rather) of Noah's ark; or else who durst be so bold with a few crooked boards nailed together, a stick standing upright, and a rag tied to it, to adventure into the ocean? what loadstone first touched the loadstone? or how first fell it in love with the North, rather affecting that cold climate, than the pleasant East, or fruitful South, or West? how comes that stone to know more than men, and find the way to the land in a mist? In most of these men take sanctuary at Occulta qualitas, and complain that the room is dark, when their eyes are blind. Indeed they are Gods Wonders; and that Seaman the greatest Wonder of all for his blockishness, who seeing them daily neither takes notice of them, admires at them, nor is thankful for them. Sr FRANCIS DRAKE one of the first of those which in his Sea voyages put a Girdle about the World. He Died upon the Seas. Anno Dni 1595. W.M. sculp: CHAP. 21. The life of Sir FRANCIS DRAKE. FRancis Drake was born nigh * Sr. Francis Drake his nephew in the descript. of his third voyage, Epistle to the Reader. south Tavestock in Devonshire, and brought up in Kent; God dividing the honour betwixt two Counties, that the one might have his birth, and the other his education. His Father, being a Minister, fled into Kent for fear of the Six Articles, wherein the sting of Popery still remained in England, though the teeth thereof were knocked out, and the Pope's Supremacy abolished. Coming into Kent, he bond his son Francis apprentice to the Master of a small bark, which traded into France, and Zealand, where he underwent a hard service; and pains with patience in his youth did knit the joints of his soul, and made them more solid and compacted. His Master dying unmarried, in reward of his industry, bequeathed his bark unto him for a legacy. For some time he continued his master's profession: But the Narrow Seas were a prison for so large a spirit, born for greater undertake. He soon grew weary of his bark, which would scarce go alone but as it crept along by the shore: wherefore selling it, he unfortunately ventured most of his estate with Captain John Hawkins into the West Indies, 1567. whose goods were taken by the Spaniards at S. John de Ulva, and he himself scarce escaped with life. The King of Spain being so tender in those parts, that the least touch doth wound him; and so jealous of the West Indies, his wife, that willingly he would have none look upon her, and therefore used them with the greater severity. Drake was persuaded by the Minister of his ship that he might lawfully recover in value of the King of Spain, and repair his losses upon him any where else. The Case was clear in sea-divinity, and few are such Infidels, as not to believe doctrines which make for their own profit. Whereupon Drake, though a poor private man, hereafter undertook to revenge himself on so mighty a Monarch; who, as not contented that the Sun riseth and setteth in his dominions, may seem to desire to make all his own where he shineth. And now let us see how a dwarf, standing on the Mount of God's providence, may prove an overmatch for a giant. After two or three several Voyages to gain intelligence in the West Indies, and some prizes taken, at last he effectually set forward from Plymouth with two ships, the one of seventy, the other twenty five tons, and seventy three men and boys in both. He made with all speed and secrecy to Nombre de Dios, as loath to put the Town to too much charge (which he knew they would willingly bestow) in providing beforehand for his entertainment; which City was then the granary of the West Indies, wherein the golden harvest brought from Panama was hoarded up till it could be conveyed into Spain. They came hard aboard the shore, and lay quiet all night intending to attempt the Town in the dawning of the day. But he was forced to alter his resolution, and assault it sooner; for he heard his men muttering amongst themselves of the strength and greatness of the Town: and when men's heads are once flyblown with buzzes of suspicion, the vermin multiply instantly, and one jealousy begets another. Wherefore he raised them from their nest before they had hatched their fears, and to put away those conceits, he persuaded them it was day-dawning when the Moon risen, and instantly set on the Town, and won it being unwalled. In the marketplace the Spaniards saluted them with a volley of shot; Drake returned their greeting with a flight of arrows, the best and ancient English compliment, which drove their enemies away. Here Drake received a dangerous wound, though he valiantly concealed it a long time, knowing if his heart stooped, his men's would fall, and loath to leave off the action, wherein if so bright an opportunity once setteth, it seldom riseth again. But at length his men forced him to return to his ship, that his wound might be dressed, and this unhappy accident defeated the whole design. Thus victory sometimes slips thorough their fingers, who have caught it in their hands. But his valour would not let him give over the project as long as there was either life or warmth in it: And therefore having received intelligence from the Negroes, called symeron's, of many mules-lading of gold and silver, which was to be brought from Panama, he leaving competent numbers to man his ships went on land with the rest, and bestowed himself in the woods by the way as they were to pass, and so intercepted and carried away an infinite mass of gold. As for the silver which was not portable over the mountains, they digged holes in the ground and hid it therein. There want not those who love to beat down the price of every honourable action, though they themselves never mean to be chapmen. These cry up Drakes fortune herein to cry down his valour; as if this his performance were nothing, wherein a golden opportunity ran his head with his long forelock into Drakes hands beyond expectation. But certainly his resolution and unconquerable patience deserved much praise, to adventure on such a design, which had in it just no more probability than what was enough to keep it from being impossible: yet I admire not so much at all the treasure he took, as at the rich and deep mine of God's providence. Having now full fraughted himself with wealth, and burnt at the House of Crosses above two hundred thousand pounds worth of Spanish Merchandise, he returned with honour and safety into England, and some * 1577. Decemb. 13. years after undertook that his famous voyage about the world, most accurately described by our English authors: and yet a word or two thereof will not be amiss. Setting forward from Plymouth, he bore up for Caboverd, where near to the island of S. Jago he took prisoner Nuno-da-Silva, an experienced Spanish pilot, whose direction he used in the coasts of Brasil and Magellan straits, and afterwards safely landed him at Guatulco in New Spain. Hence they took their course to the island of Brava, and hereabouts they met with those tempestuous winds, whose only praise is, that they continue not above an hour, in which time they change * Manusc. of geor For●escue who went the voyage with Sr Fran. Drake. all the points of the compass. Here they had great plenty of rain, poured (not as in other places, as it were out of sives, but) as out of spouts, so that a but of water falls down in a place: which notwithstanding is but a courteous injury in that hot climate fare from land, and where otherwise fresh water cannot be provided: then cutting the Line, they saw the face of that heaven which earth hideth from us, but therein only three * Cambd. Eliza. Anno 1580. p. 323. stars of the first greatness, the rest few and small compared to our Hemisphere, as if God, on purpose, had set up the best and biggest candles in that room wherein his civilest guests are entertained. Sailing the South of Brasile, he afterwards passed the * August. 20. 1578. Magellan straits, and then entered Mare pacificum, came to the Southermost land at the height of 55 ½ latitude; thence directing his course Northward, he pillaged many Spanish Towns, and took rich prizes of high value in the kingdoms of Chily, Peru, and New Spain. Then bending Eastwards, he coasted China, and the Moluccoes, where by the King of Terrenate, a true Gentleman Pagan, he was most honourably entertained: The King told them, They and he were all of one religion in this respect, that they believed * Manuscri. Geor Fortescue not in Gods made of stocks and stones as did the portugals. He furnished them also with all necessaries that they wanted. On the ninth of * 1579. January following, his ship, having a large wind and a smooth sea, ran a ground on a dangerous shoal, and struck twice on it, knocking twice at the door of death, which no doubt had opened the third time. Here they * Hacluits voyage, p. 741.3 vol. stuck from eight a clock at night till four the next afternoon, having ground too much, and yet too little to land on, and water too much, and yet too little to sail in. Had God (who, as the wiseman saith, Prov. 30.4. holdeth the winds in his fist) but opened his little finger, and let out the smallest blast, they had undoubtedly been cast away; but there blew not any wind all the while. Then they conceiving aright that the best way to lighten the ship, was first to ease it of the burden of their sins by true repentance, humbled themselves by fasting under the hand of God: Afterwards they received the Communion, dining on Christ in the Sacrament, expecting no other than to sup with him in heaven: Then they cast out of their ship six great pieces of ordinance, threw overboard as much wealth as would break the heart of a Miser to think on't, with much sugar, and packs of spices, making a caudle of the sea round about: Then they betook themselves to their prayers, the best lever at such a dead lift indeed, and it pleased God that the wind, formerly their mortal enemy, became their friend, which changing from the Starboard to the Larboard of the ship, and rising by degrees, cleared them off to the sea again, for which they returned unfeigned thanks to almighty God. By the Cape of good hope and west of Africa he returned safe into England, and landed at * Novemb. 3. 1580. Plymouth, (being almost the first of those that made a thorow-light through the world) having in his whole voyage, though a curious searcher after the time, lost one day through the variation of several Climates. He feasted the Queen in his ship at Dartford, who Knighted him for his service: yet it grieved him not a little, that some prime * Camb. Eliza. Anno ut priùs, pag. 127. Courtiers refused the gold he offered them, as gotten by piracy. Some of them would have been loath to have been told, that they had Aurum Tholosanum in their own purses. Some think that they did it to show that their envious pride was above their covetousness, who of set purpose did blur the fair copy of his performance, because they would not take pains to write after it. I pass by his next 1585. West Indian voyage, wherein he took the Cities of S. Jago, S. Domingo, Carthagena, and S. Augustine in Florida: as also his service performed in 88, wherein he with many others helped to the waning of that half Moon, which sought to govern all the motion of our Sea. I hast to his last Voyage. 1595. Queen Elizabeth perceiving that the only way to make the Spaniard a cripple for ever, was to cut his Sinews of war in the West Indies, ●urnished Sr Francis Drake, and Sr John Hawkins with six of her own ships, besides 21 ships and Barks of their own providing, containing in all 2500 Men and boys, for some service on America. But, alas, this voyage was marred before begun. For so great preparations being too big for a cover, the King of Spain knew of it, and sent a Caravall of adviso to the West Indies, so that they had intelligence * Hacluits voyage, 3. vol. pag. 583. three weeks before the Fleet set forth of England, either to fortify, or remove their treasure; whereas in other of Drakes Voyages not two of his own men knew whither he went; and managing such a design is like carrying a Mine in war, if it hath any vent, all is spoilt. Besides, Drake and Hawkins being in joint Commission hindered each other. The later took himself to be inferior rather in success then skill, and the action was unlike to prosper when neither would follow, and both could not handsomely go abreast. It vexed old Hawkins that his counsel was not followed, in present sailing to America, but that they spent time in vain in assaulting the Canaries; and the grief that his advice was slighted (say some) was the cause of his death. Others impute it to the sorrow he took, for the taking of his Bark called the Francis, which five Spanish Frigates had intercepted: But when the same heart hath two mortal wounds given it together, 'tis hard to say which of them killeth. Drake continued his course for Port-Rico, and riding within the road, a shot from the Castle entered the steerage of the ship, took away the stool from under him as he sat at supper, wounded Sr Nicholas Clifford and Brute Brown to death. Ah dear * From the mouth of Henr. Drake Esquire there present, my dear and worthy parishioner lately deceased. Brute (said Drake) I could grieve for thee▪ but now is no time for me to let down my spirits. And indeed a soldiers most proper bemoaning a friends death in war is in revenging it. And sure, as if grief had made the English furious, they soon after fired five Spanish ships of two hundred tons apiece, in despite of the Castle. America is not unfitly resembled to an hourglass, which hath a narrow neck of land (suppose it the hole where the sand passeth) betwixt the parts thereof, Mexicana & Pervana. Now the English had a design to march by land over this Isthmus from Port-Rico to Panama, where the Spanish treasure was laid up. Sr Thomas Baskervile, general of the land-forces, undertook the service with seven hundred and fifty armed men. They marched through deep ways, the Spaniards much annoying them with shot out of the woods. One fort in the passage they assaulted in vain, and heard that two others were built to stop them, besides Panama itself. They had so much of this breakfast, they thought they should surfeit of a dinner and supper of the same. No hope of conquest, except with cloying the jaws of Death, and thrusting men on the mouth of the Canon. Wherefore fearing to find the Proverb true, That Gold may be bought too dear, they returned to their ships. Drake afterwards fired Nombre de Dios, and many other petty Towns (whose treasure the Spaniards had conveyed away) burning the empty casks, when their precious liquor was run out before, and then prepared for their returning home. Great was the difference betwixt the Indian cities now from what they were when Drake first haunted these coasts: At first the Spaniards here were safe and secure, counting their treasure sufficient to defend itself, the remoteness thereof being the greatest (almost only) resistance, and the fetching of it more than the fight for it. Whilst the King of Spain guarded the head and heart of his dominions in Europe, he left his long legs in America open to blows, till finding them to smart, being beaten black and blue by the English, he learned to arm them at last, fortifying the most important of them to make them impregnable. Now began Sr Francis his discontent to feed upon him. He conceived that expectation, a merciless usurer, computing each day since his departure exacted an interest and return of honour and profit proportionable to his great preparations, and transcending his former achievements. He saw that all the good which he had done in this voyage, consisted in the evil he had done to the Spaniards afar off, whereof he could present but small visible fruits in England. These apprehensions accompanying if not causing the disease of the flux wrought his sudden * January 28. 1595. death. And sickness did not so much untie his clothes, as sorrow did rend at once the robe of his mortality asunder. He lived by the sea, died on it, and was buried in it. Thus an ex-tempore performance (scarce heard to be begun before we hear it is ended) comes off with better applause, or miscarries with less disgrace, than a long studied and openly premeditated action. Besides, we see how great spirits, having mounted to the highest pitch of performance, afterwards strain and break their credits in striving to go beyond it. Lastly, God oftentimes leaves the brightest men in an eclipse, to show that they do but borrow their lustre from his reflection. We will not justify all the actions of any man, though of a tamer profession than a Sea-Captain, in whom civility is often counted preciseness. For the main, we say that this our Captain was a religious man towards God and his houses (generally sparing Churches where he came) chaste in his life, just in his deal, true of his word, and merciful to those that were under him, hating nothing so much as idleness: And therefore lest his soul should rust in peace, at spare hours he brought fresh water to Plymouth. Careful he was for posterity (though men of his profession have as well an ebb of riot, as a float of fortune) and providently raised a worshipful Family of his kindred. In a word, should those that speak against him fast till they fetch their bread where he did his, they would have a good stomach to eat it. CHAP. 22. The good Herald. HE is a Warden of the temple of Honour. Mutual necessity made mortal enemies agree in these Officers; the lungs of Mars himself would be burnt to pieces having no respiration in a truce. Herald's therefore were invented to proclaim peace or war, deliver messages about summons of forts, ransoming of captives, burying the dead, and the like. He is grave and faithful in discharging the service he is employed in. Maxim 1 The names which Homer gives the Grecian Ceryces, excellently import their virtues in discharging their office: One was called Asphalio, such an one as made sure work; another Eurybates, cunning and subtle; a third Theotes, from his piety and godliness; a fourth Stentor, from his loud and audible pronouncing of messages. Therefore of every Heathen sacrifice the * Sr. Hen. Spelman Glossar. de verbo Herald. tongue was cut out, and given to the Heralds, to show that liberty of speech in all places was allowed them. 2 He imbitters not a distasteful message to a foreign Prince by his indiscretion in delivering it. Commendable was the gravity of given King of arms in France, and Thomas Bevolt Clarenceaux of England, sent by their several Princes to defy Charles the Emperor. For after leave demanded and obtained to deliver the message with safe conduct to their persons, they delivered the Emperor the lie in writing, and defying him were sent home safe with rewards. It fared worse with a foolish French Herald, sent from the Count of Orgell to challenge combat with the Count of Cardonna, Admiral of Arragon, where instead of wearing his Coat of Arms the Herald was attired in a long linen garment, painted with some dishonest actions, imputed to the said Count of Cardonna. But Ferdinand King of Arragon caused the Herald to be whipped naked through the streets * Span. Hist. in the life of Ferdinand. of Barcelona, as a punishment of his presumption. Thus his indescretion remitted him to the nature of an ordinary person, his Armour of proof of public credence fell off, and he left naked to the stroke of justice, no longer a public Officer, but a private offender. Pass we now from his use in war to his employment in peace. 3 He is skilful in the pedigrees and descents of all ancient Gentry. Otherwise, to be able only to blazon a Coat doth no more make an Herald, than the reading the titles of galley-pots makes a Physician. Bring our Herald to a Monument, ubi jacet epitaphium, and where the Arms on the tomb are not only crestfallen, but their colours scarce to be discerned, and he will tell whose they be, if any certainty therein can be rescued from the teeth of Time. But how shameful was the ignorance of the French * Andr. Favin (a Parisian Advocate) in his Theatre of Honour, 1. book 4. chap. pag. 35 Heralds some forty years since, who at a solemn entertainment of Queen Mary of Florence, wife to King Henry the fourth, did falsely devise and blazon both the Arms of Florence, and the Arms of the dauphin of France, now King thereof. He carefully preserveth the memories of extinguished Families, 4 of such Zelophehads, who dying left only daughters. He is more faithful to many ancient Gentlemen than their own Heirs were, who sold their lands, and with them (as much as in them lay) their memories, which our Herald carefully treasureth up. He restoreth many to their own rightful Arms. 5 An Heir is a phoenix in a family, there can be but one of them at the same time. Hence comes it often to pass, that younger brothers of gentile families live in low ways, clouded often amongst the Yeomanry; and yet those under-boughs grow from the same root with the top-branches. It may happen afterwards that by industry they may advance themselves to their former lustre; and good reason they should recover their ancient ensigns of honour belonging unto them: For the river Anas in Spain, though running many miles under ground, when it comes up again is still the same river which it was before. And yet He curbs their usurpation who unjustly entitle themselves to ancient Houses. 6 Hierophilus a * Valer. Max. lib. 9 cap. 16. Ferrier in Rome pretended himself to be nephew to C. Marius, who had seven times been Consul, and carried it in so high a strain that many believed him, and some companies in Rome accepted him for their Patron. Such want not amongst us, who in spite of the stock will engraff themselves into noble bloods, and thence derive their pedigree. Hence they new mould their names, taking from them, adding to them, melting out all the liquid letters, torturing mutes to make them speak, and making vowels dumb to bring it to a fallacious Homonomy at the last, that their names may be the same with those noble Houses they pretend to. By this trick (to forbear dangerous instances, if affinity of sound makes kindred) Lutulentus makes himself kin to Luculentus, dirt to light, and Angustus to Augustus, some narrow-hearted Peasant, to some large-spirited Prince, except our good Herald mar their mart, and discover their forgery. For well he knows where indeed the names are the same (though altered through variety of writing in several ages, and disguised by the lisping of vulgar people, who miscall hard French surnames) and where the equivocation is untruly affected. 7 He assigns honourable Arms to such as raise themselves by deserts. In all ages their must be as well a beginning of new Gentry, as an ending of ancient. And let not Linea, when fare extended in length, grow so proud as to scorn the first Punctum which gave it the original. Our Herald knows also to cure the surfeit of Coats, and unsurcharge them, and how to wash out stained colours, when the merits of Posterity have outworn the disgraces of their ancestors. 8 He will not for any profit favour wealthy unworthiness. If a rich Clown (who deserves that all his shield should be the Base point) shall repair to the Herald-office, as to a drapers shop, wherein any Coat may be bought for money, he quickly finds himself deceived. No doubt if our Herald gives him a Coat, he gives him also a badge with it. WILLIAM CAMBDEN Clarenciaux king of arms. He died at Westminster Anno Dni 1623. Aged 74 years. W marshal sculp: CHAP. 23. The life of Mr W. CAMBDEN. WIlliam Cambden was born Anno 1550 in old bailie, in the City of London. His Father, Samson Cambden, was descended of honest parentage in Staffordshire; but by his mother's side he was extracted from the worshipful family of the * A quibus nobis (absit invidia) genus maternum, Cambd. Brit. in Cumber. Curwens in Cumberland. He was brought up first in Christ-Church, then in Paul's School in London, and at fifteen years of age went to Magdalen college in Oxford, and thence to * Ex Parentatione Degorii Wheat. Broadgates' Hall, where he first made those short Latin Graces, which the servitors still use. From hence he was removed, and made student of Christ Church, where he profited to such eminency, that he was preferred to be Master of Westminster School, a most famous seminary of learning. For whereas before, of the two grand Schools of England, one sent all her Foundation-scholars to Cambridge, the other all to Oxford, the good Queen (as the Head equally favouring both Breasts of Learning and Religion) divided her Scholars here betwixt both Universities, which were enriched with many hopeful plants sent from hence, through Cambdens' learning, diligence, and clemency. Sure none need pity the beating of that Scholar, who would not learn without it under so meek a Master. His deserts called him hence to higher employments. The Queen first made him Richmond Herald, and then Clarenceaux King of Arms. We read how Dionysius first King of Sicily turned afterwards a Schoolmaster in his old age. Behold here Dionysius inverted, one that was a Schoolmaster in his youth become a King (of Arms) in his riper years, which place none ever did or shall discharge with more integrity. He was a most exact Antiquary, witness his worthy work, which is a comment on three kingdoms; and never was so large a text more briefly, so dark a text more plainly expounded. Yea what a fair garment hath been made out of the very shreds and Remains of that greater Work? It is most worthy observation with what diligence he inquired after ancient places, making Hue and cry after many a City which was run away, and by certain marks and tokens pursuing to find it; as by the situation on the * Watlin ermine street Roman highways, by just distance from other ancient cities, by some affinity of name, by tradition of the inhabitants, by Roman coins digged up, and by some appearance of ruins. A broken urn is a whole evidence, or an old gate still surviving, out of which the city is run out. Besides, commonly some new spruce town, not fare off, is grown out of the ashes thereof, which yet hath so much natural affection, as dutifully to own those reverend ruins for her Mother. By these and other means he arrived at admirable knowledge, and restored Britain to herself. And let none tax him for presumption in conjectures where the matter was doubtful; for many probable conjectures have stricken the fire, out of which truth's candle hath been lighted afterwards. Besides, conjectures, like parcels of unknown ore, are sold but at low rates: If they prove some rich metal, the buyer is a great gainer; i● base, no loser, for he pays for it accordingly. His candour and sweet temper was highly to be commended, gratefully acknowledging those by whom he was assisted in the work (in such a case confession puts the difference betwixt stealing and borrowing) and surely so heavy a log needed more levers than one. He honourably mentioneth such as differ from him in opinion; not like those Antiquaries, who are so snarling one had as good dissent a mile as an hairs breadth from them. Most of the English ancient Nobility and Gentry he hath unpartially observed. Some indeed object that he * Hugh Holland in the life of the Earl of Leicester. claws and flatters the Grandees of his own age, extolling some families rather great then ancient, making them to flow from a fare fountain because they had a great channel, especially if his private friends. But this cavil hath more of malice then truth: indeed 'tis pity he should have a tongue, that hath not a word for a friend on just occasion; and justly might the stream of his commendations run broader, where meeting with a confluence of desert and friendship in the same party. For the main, his pen is sincere and unpartial, and they who complain that Grantham steeple stands awry will not set a straighter by it. Some say that in silencing many gentile families, he makes baulks of as good ground as any he ploweth up. But these again acquit him, when they consider that it is not only difficult but impossible to anatomize the English Gentry so exactly, as to show where every smallest vein thereof runs. Besides, many Houses, conceived to be by him omitted, are rather rightly placed by him, not where they live, but whence they came. Lastly, we may perceive that he prepared another work on purpose for the English Gentry. I say nothing of his learned annals of Queen Elizabeth, industriously performed. His very enemies (if any) cannot but commend him. Sure he was as fare from loving * These words he wrote in the beginning of his Testament, Christi solius meritis & satisfactione spem omnem salutis meae semper ni●i profiteor. Popery, as from hating Learning, though that aspersion be general on Antiquaries; as if they could not honour hoary hairs, but presently themselves must dote. His liberality to Learning is sufficiently witnessed in his Founding of an History-Professour in Oxford, to which he gave the manor of Bexley in Kent, worth in present a hundred and forty pounds, but (some years expired) four hundred pounds per Annum, so that he merited that distich, Est tibi pro Tumulo, Cambdene, Britannia tota, Oxonium vivens est Epigramma tibi. The Military part of his office he had no need to employ, passing it most under a peaceable Prince. But now having lived many years in honour and esteem, death at last, even contrary to Ius Gentium, killed this worthy Herald, so that it seems, Mortality, the Law of Nature, is above the Law of Arms. He died Anno 1623. the ninth of November, in the seventy fourth year of his age. CHAP. 24. The true Gentleman. WE will consider him in his Birth, Breeding, and Behaviour. He is extracted from ancient and worshipful parentage. Maxim 1 When a Pepin is planted on a Pepin-stock, the fruit growing thence is called a * Draitons' Polio●bion, p. 298. Renate, a most delicious apple, as both by Sire and dam well descended. Thus his blood must needs be well purified who is gently born on both sides. 2 If his birth be not, at leastwise his qualities are generous. What if he cannot with the Hevenninghams' of Suffolk count▪ * ●eavers summon. pag. 854. five and twenty Knights of his family, or tell * Idem. p. 818. sixteen Knights successively with the Tilneys of Norfolk, or with the Nauntons show where their ancestors had * Idem p 758. seven hundred pound a year before or at the conquest; yet he hath endeavoured by his own deserts to ennoble himself. Thus Valour makes him son to Caesar, Learning entitles him kinsman to Tully, & Piety reports him nephew to godly Constantine. It graceth a Gentleman of low descent & high desert, when he will own the meanness of his parentage. How ridiculous is it when many men brag, that their families are more ancient than the Moon, which all know are later than the star which some seventy years since shined in Cassiopea. But if he be generously born, 3 see how his parents breed him. He is not in his youth possessed with the great hopes of his possession. No flatterer reads constantly in his ears a survey of the lands he is to inherit. This hath made many boy's thoughts swell so great they could never be kept in compass afterwards. Only his Parents acquaint him that he is the next undoubted Heir to correction, if misbehaving himself; and he finds no more favour from his Schoolmaster then his Schoolmaster finds diligence in him, whose rod respects persons no more than bullets are partial in a battle. 4 At the university he is so studious as if he intended Learning for his profession. He knows well that cunning is no burden to carry, as paying neither portage by land▪ nor poundage by sea. Yea though to have land be a good First, yet to have learning is the surest Second, which may stand to it when the other may chance to be taken away. 5 At the inns of Court he applies himself to learn the Laws of the kingdom. Object not, Why should a Gentleman learn law, who if he needeth it may have it for his money, and if he hath never so much of his own, he must but give it away. For what a shame is it for a man of quality to be ignorant of Solon in our Athens, of Lycurgus in our Sparta? Besides, law will help him to keep his own, and besteed his neighbours. Say not, that there be enough which make this their set practice: for so there are also many masters of defence by their profession; and shall private men therefore learn no skill at their weapons. As for the Hospitality, the apparel, the Travelling, the company, the Recreations, the Marriage of Gentlemen, they are described in several Chapters in the following Book. A word or two of his behaviour in the country. 6 He is courteous and affable to his neighbours. As the sword of the best tempered mettle is most flexible; so the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their behaviour to their inferiors. 7 He delights to see himself, and his servants well mounted: therefore he loveth good Horsemanship. Let never any foreign Rabshakeh send that brave to our Jerusalem, offering to lend her * 2. Kings. 18.23. two thousand horses, if she be able for her part to set riders upon them. We know how Darius got the Persian Empire from the rest of his fellow peers, by the first neighing of his generous steed. It were no harm if in some needless suits of intricate precedency betwixt equal Gentlemen, the priority were adjudged to him who keeps a stable of most serviceable horses. He furnisheth and prepareth himself in peace against time of war. 8 Lest it be too late to learn when his skill is to be used. He approves himself courageous when brought to the trial, as well remembering the custom which is used at the Creation of Knights of the Bath, wherein the King's Master-Cook * M. Selden in his titles of Honour, pag. 820. cometh forth, & presenteth his great knife to the new-made Knights, admonishing them to be faithful and valiant, otherwise he threatens them that that very knife is prepared to cut off their spurs. If the Commission of the Peace finds him out, 9 he faithfully discharges it. I say, Finds him out; for a public Office is a guest which receives the best usage from them who never invited it. And though he declined the Place, the country knew to prise his worth, who would be ignorant of his own. He compounds many petty differences betwixt his neighbours, which are easier ended in his own Porch then in Westminster-hall: for many people think, if once they have fetched a warrant from a Justice, they have given earnest to follow the suit, though otherwise the matter be so mean that the next night's sleep would have bound both parties to the peace, and made them as good friends as ever before. Yet He connives not at the smothering of punishable faults. 10 He hates that practice, as common as dangerous amongst country people, who having received again the goods which were stolen from them, partly out of foolish pity, and partly out of covetousness to save charges in prosecuting the law, let the thief escape unpunished. Thus whilst private losses are repaired, the wounds to the Commonwealth (in the breach of the Laws) are left uncured: And thus petty Larceners are encouraged into Felons, and afterwards are hanged for pounds, because never whipped for pence, who, if they had felt the cord, had never been brought to the halter. 11 If chosen a Member of Parliament he is willing to do his country service. If he be no Rhetorician to raise affections, (yea Barnabas was a * Acts 14.12. greater speaker then S. Paul himself) he counts it great wisdom to be the good manager of Yea and Nay. The slow pace of his judgement is recompensed by the swift following of his affections, when his judgement is once sound informed. And here we leave him in consultation, wishing him with the rest of his honourable Society all happy success. The Holy State. THE THIRD BOOK. Containing general Rules. CHAP. 1. Of Hospitality. HOspitality is threefold: for ones family; this is of Necessity: for strangers; this is courtesy: for the poor; this is Charity. Of the two latter. To keep a disorderly house is the way to keep neither house nor lands. Maxim 1. For whilst they keep the greatest roaring, their state steals away in the greatest silence. Yet when many consume themselves with secret vices, than Hospitality bears the blame: whereas it is not the Meat but the Sauce, not the Supper but the Gaming after it, doth undo them. Measure not thy entertainment of a guest by his estate, but thine own. 2 Because he is a Lord, forget not that thou art but a Gentleman: otherwise if with feasting him thou breakest thyself, he will not cure thy rapture, and (perchance) rather deride then pity thee. When provision (as we say) groweth on the same, it is miraculously multiplied. 3 In Northamptonshire all the rivers of the County are bred in it, besides those (Ouse and Charwell) it dareth and sendeth into other shires: So the good Housekeeper hath a fountain of wheat in his field, mutton in his fold, etc. both to serve himself, and supply others. The expense of a feast will but breathe him, which will tyre another of the same estate who buys all by the penny. 4 Mean men's palates are best pleased with fare rather plentiful then various, solid then dainty. Dainties will cost more, and content less, to those that are not critical enough to distinguish them. 5 Occasional entertainment of men greater than thyself is better than solemn inviting them. Then short warning is thy large excuse: whereas otherwise, if thou dost not overdo thy estate, thou shalt underdo his expectation, for thy feast will be but his ordinary fare. A King of France was often pleased in his hunting wilfully to lose himself, to find the house of a private Park-keeper; where going from the School of State-affairs, he was pleased to make a playday to himself. He brought sauce (Hunger) with him, which made course meat dainties to his palate. At last the Park-keeper took heart, and solemnly invited the King to his house, who came with all his Court, so that all the man's meat was not a morsel for them: Well (said the Park-keeper) I will invite no more Kings; having learned the difference between Princes when they please to put on the vizard of privacy, and when they will appear like themselves, both in their Person and Attendants. 6 Those are ripe for charity which are withered by age or impotency. Especially if maimed in following their calling; for such are Industries Martyrs, at least her confessors. Add to these those that with diligence fight against poverty, though neither conquer till death make it a drawn battle. Expect not, but prevent their craving of thee; for God forbidden the heavens should never rain till the earth first opens her mouth, seeing some grounds will sooner burn then chap. 7 The House of correction is the fittest Hospital for those Cripples, whose legs are lame through their own laziness. Surely King Edward the sixth was as truly charitable in granting Bridewell for the punishment of sturdy Rogues, as in giving S. Thomas hospital for the relief of the poor. I have done with the subject, only I desire rich men to awaken Hospitality, which * Cambd. ●●s. Anno 1573. one saith since the year 1572 hath in a manner been laid asleep in the grave of Edward Earl of Derby. CHAP. 2. Of jesting. Harmless mirth is the best cordial against the consumption of the spirits: wherefore Jesting is not unlawful if it trespasseth not in Quantity, Quality, or Season. It is good to make a jest, Maxim 1. but not to make a trade of jesting. The Earl of Leicester, knowing that Queen Elizabeth was much delighted to see a Gentleman dance well, brought the Master of a dancing-school to dance before her: Pish (said the Queen) it is his profession, I will not see him. She liked it not where it was a Master-quality, but where it attended on other perfections. The same may we say of Jesting. jest not with the two-edged * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Heb. 4.11. sword of God's Word. 2 Will nothing please thee to wash thy hands in, but the Font? or to drink healths in, but the Church Chalice? And know the whole art is learned at the first admission, and profane Jests will come without calling. If in the troublesome days of King Edward the fourth a Citizen in Cheapside was executed as a traitor, for saying he would make his son heir to the * Speed in Edward the 4. Crown, though he only meant his own house, having a Crown for the sign; more dangerous it is to wit-wanton it with the majesty of God. Wherefore if without thine intention, and against thy will, by chancemedly thou hittest Scripture in ordinary discourse, yet fly to the city of refuge, and pray to God to forgive thee. Wanton jests make fools laugh, 3 and wise men frown. Seeing we are civilised English men, let us not be naked savages in our talk. Such rotten speeches are worst in withered age, when men run after that sin in their words which flieth from them in the deed. 4 Let not thy jests like mummy be made of dead men's flesh. Abuse not any that are departed; for to wrong their memories is to rob their ghosts of their winding-sheets. 5 Scoff not at the natural defects of any which are not in their power to amend. Oh 'tis cruelty to beat a cripple with his own crutches. Neither flout any for his profession if honest though poor and painful. Mock not a cobbler for his black thumbs. 6 He that relates another man's wicked jest with delight, adopts it to be his own. Purge them therefore from their poison. If the profaneness may be severed from the wit, it is like a Lamprey, take out the string in the back, it may make good meat: But if the staple conceit consists in profaneness, than it is a viper, all poison, and meddle not with it. 7 He that will lose his friend for a jest deserves to die a beggar by the bargain. Yet some think their conceits, like mustard, not good except they by't. We read that all those who were born in England the year after the beginning of the great mortality * Tho. Walsingam in eodem anno. 1349. wanted their four cheek-teeths. Such let thy Jests be, that they may not grind the credit of thy friend, and make not Jests so long till thou becomest one. 8 No time to break jests when the heartstrings are about to be broken. No more showing of wit when the head is to be cut off. Like that dying man, who, when the Priest coming to him to give him extreme unction, asked of him where his feet were, answered, at the end of my legs. But at such a time Jests are an unmannerly crepitus ingenii: And let those take heed who end here with Democritus, that they begin not with Heraclitus hereafter. CHAP. 3. Of Self-praysing. HE whose own worth doth speak need not speak his own worth. Maxim 1 Such boasting sounds proceed from emptiness of desert: whereas the conquerors in the Olympian games did not put on the laurels on their own heads, but waited till some other did it. Only Anchorets that want company may crown themselves with their own commendations. It showeth more wit but no less vanity to commend one's self not in a straight line but by reflection. 2 Some sail to the port of their own praise by a side-wind: as when they dispraise themselves, stripping themselves naked of what is their due, that the modesty of the beholders may clothe them with it again; or when they flatter another to his face, tossing the ball to him that he may throw it back again to them; or when they commend that quality, wherein themselves excel, in another man (though absent) whom all know fare their inferior in that faculty; or lastly (to omit other ambushes men set to surprise praise) when they send the children of their own brain to be nursed by another man, and commend their own works in a third person, but if challenged by the company that they were authors of them themselves, with their tongues they faintly deny it, and with their faces strongly affirm it. Self-praising comes most naturally from a man when it comes most violently from him in his own defence. 3 For though modesty binds a man's tongue to the peace in this point, yet being assaulted in his credit he may stand upon his guard, and then he doth not so much praise as purge himself. One braved a Gentleman to his face that in skill and valour he came fare behind him; 'Tis true (said the other) for when I fought with you, you ran away before me. In such a case, it was well returned, and without any just aspersion of pride. 4 He that falls into sin is a man; that grieves at it, is a saint; that boasteth of it, is a devil. Yet some glory in their shame, counting the stains of sin the best complexion for their souls. These men make me believe it may be true what Mandevil writes of the Isle of Somabarre, in the East Indies, that all the Nobility thereof brand their faces with a hot iron in token of honour. 5 He that boasts of sins never committed is a double devil. Many brag how many gardens of virginity they have deflowered, who never came near the walls thereof, lying on those with whom they did never lie, and with slanderous tongues committing rapes on chaste women's reputations. Others (who would sooner creep into a scabbard then draw a sword) boast of their robberies, to usurp the esteem of valour: Whereas first let them be well whipped for their lying, and as they like that, let them come afterward and entitle themselves to the gallows. CHAP. 4. Of Travelling. IT is a good accomplishment to a man, if first the stock be well grown whereon travel is graffed, and these rules observed Before, In, and After his going abroad. Maxim 1. Travel not too early before thy judgement be risen; lest thou observest rather shows then substance, marking alone Pageants, Pictures, beautiful Buildings, etc. 2 Get the Language (in part) without which key thou shalt unlock little of moment. It is a great advantage to be ones own interpreter. Object not that the French tongue learned in England must be unlearnt again in France; for it is easier to add than begin, and to pronounce then to speak. Be well settled in thine own Religion, 3 lest, travelling out of England into Spain, thou goest out of God's blessing into the warm sun. They that go over maids for their Religion, will be ravished at the sight of the first Popish Church they enter into. But if first thou be well grounded, their fooleries shall rivet thy faith the faster, and travel shall give thee Confirmation in that baptism thou didst receive at home. Know most of the rooms of thy native country before thou goest over the threshold thereof. 4 Especially seeing England presents thee with so many observables. But late Writers lack nothing but age, and home-wonders but distance to make them admired. 'Tis a tale what * Antiqu. jud. lib. 1. cap. 3. Josephus writes of the two pillars set up by the sons of Seth in Syria, the one of brick, fire-proof; the other of stone, water-free, thereon engraving many heavenly matters to perpetuate learning in defiance of time. But it is truly moralised in our Universities, Cambridge (of Brick) and Oxford (of Stone) wherein Learning and Religion are preserved, and where the worst college is more sight-worthy than the best Dutch Gymnasium. First view these, and the rest home-rarities; not like those English, that can give a better account of Fountain-bleau then Hampton-Court, of the spa than Bath, of Anas in Spain then Mole in Surrey. Travel not beyond the Alps. 5 Mr. * In his preface to his Schoolmaster. Ascham did thank God that he was but nine days in Italy, wherein he saw in one city (Venice) more liberty to sin, then in London he ever heard of in nine years. That some of our Gentry have gone thither, and returned thence without infection, I more praise God's providence then their adventure. To travel from the sun is uncomfortable. 6 Yet the northern parts with much ice have some crystal, and want not their remarkables. If thou wilt see much in a little, travel the Low countries. 7 Holland is all Europe in an Amsterdam-print, for Minerva, Mars, and Mercury, Learning, war, and traffic. 8 Be wise in choosing Objects, diligent in marking, careful in remembering of them: yet herein men much follow their own humours. One asked a Barber, who never before had been at the Court, what he saw there? Oh (said he) the King was excellently well trimmed! Thus Merchants most mark foreign Havens, Exchanges, and Marts; soldiers note Forts, armouries, and Magazines; Scholars listen after Libraries, Disputations, and professors; Statesmen observe Courts of justice, counsels, etc. Every one is partial in his own profession. 9 Labour to distil and unite into thyself the scattered perfections of several Nations. But (as it was said of one, who with more industry than judgement frequented a Colledge-Library, and commonly made use of the worst notes he met with in any authors, that he weeded the Library) many weed foreign Countries, bringing home Dutch drunkenness, Spanish Pride, French wantonness and Italian atheism. As for the good herbs, Dutch Industry, Spanish Loyalty, French courtesy, and Italian Frugality, these they leave behind them. Others bring home just nothing; and because they singled not themselves from their countrymen, though some years beyond Sea, were never out of England. 10 Continue correspondency with some choice foreign friend after thy return. As some professor or Secretary, who virtually is the whole University, or State. 'Tis but a dull Dutch fashion, their Albus Amicorum, to make a dictionary of their friends names: But a selected familiar in every country is useful, betwixt you there may be a Letter-exchange. Be sure to return as good wares as thou receivest, and acquaint him with the remarkables of thy own country, and he will willingly continue the trade, finding it equally gainful. Let discourse rather be easily drawn, 11 then willingly flow from thee. That thou mayest not seem weak to hold, or desirous to vent news, but content to gratify thy friends. Be sparing in reporting improbable truths, especially to the vulgar, who instead of informing their judgements will suspect thy credit. Disdain their pevish pride who rail on their native land (whose worst fault is that it bred such ungrateful fools) and in all their discourses prefer foreign countries, herein showing themselves of kin to the wild Irish in loving their Nurses better than their Mothers. CHAP. 5. Of Company. Company is one of the greatest pleasures of the nature of man. Maxim 1. For the beams of joy are made hotter by reflection, when related to another; and otherwise gladness itself must grieve for want of one to express itself to. It is unnatural for a man to court and hug solitariness. 2 It is observed, that the farthest lands in the world are so seated that there is none so remote but that from some shore of it another island or Continent may be discerned: As if hereby Nature invited countries to a mutual commerce one with another. Why then should any man affect to environ himself with so deep and great reservedness, as not to communicate with the society of others? And though we pity those who made solitariness their refuge in time of persecution, we must condemn such as choose it in the church's prosperity. For well may we count him not well in his wits, who will live always under a bush, because others in a storm shelter themselves under it. Yet a desert is better than a debauched companion. 3 For the wildness of the place is but uncheerfull, whilst the wildness of bad persons is also infectious. Better therefore ride alone then have a thief's company. And such is a wicked man, who will rob thee of precious time, if he doth no more mischief. The Nazarites who might drink no wine were also forbidden (Numb. 6.3.) to eat grapes, whereof wine is made. We must not only avoid sin itself, but also the causes and occasions thereof: amongst which bad company (the limetwigs of the devil) is the chiefest, especially, to catch those natures which like the goodfellow planet Mercury are most swayed by others. 4 If thou be'st cast into bad company, like Hercules, thou must sleep with thy club in thine hand, and stand on thy guard. I mean if against thy will the tempest of an unexpected occasion drives thee amongst such rocks; then be thou like the river * Cambd. Brit. in Merioneth. Dee in Merionethshire in Wales, which running through Pimble mere remains entire, and mingles not her streams with the waters of the lake. Though with them, be not of them; keep civil communion with them, but separate from their sins. And if against thy will thou fallest amongst wicked men, know to thy comfort thou art still in thy calling, and therefore in Gods keeping, who on thy prayers will preserve thee. 5 The company he keeps is the comment, by help whereof men expound the most close and mystical man; understanding him for one of the same religion, life, and manners with his associates. And though perchance he be not such an one, 'tis just he should be counted so for conversing with them. Augustus Cesar came thus to discern his two daughters inclinations: for being once at a public show, where much people was present, he * Sucton. in August. Caes. observed that the grave senators talked with Livia, but lose Youngsters and riotous persons with Julia. 9 He that eats cherries with Noblemen shall have his eyes spirted out with the stones. This outlandish Proverb hath in it an English truth, that they who constantly converse with men fare above their estates shall reap shame and loss thereby: If thou payest nothing, they will count thee a sucker, no branch; a wen, no member of their company: If in payments thou keepest pace with them, their long strides will soon tyre thy short legs. The Bevers in New England, when some ten of them together draw a stick to the building of their lodging, set the * Wood in his description of New England. weakest Bevers to the lighter end of the log, and the strongest take the heaviest part thereof: whereas men often lay the greatest burden on the weakest back; and great persons, to teach meaner men to learn their distance, take pleasure to make them pay for their company. I except such men, who having some excellent quality are gratis very welcome to their betters; such a one, though he pays not a penny of the shot, spends enough in lending them his time and discourse. To affect always to be the best of the company argues a base disposition. 7 Gold always worn in the same purse with silver loses both of the colour and weight; and so to converse always with inferiors degrades a man of his worth. Such there are that love to be the Lords of the company, whilst the rest must be their Tenants: as if bound by their lease to approve, praise, and admire, whatsoever they say. These knowing the lowness of their parts love to live with dwarves, that they may seem proper men. To come amongst their equals, they count it an abbridgement of their freedom, but to be with their betters, they deem it flat slavery. It is excellent for one to have a Library of Scholars, 8 especially if they be plain to be read. I mean of a communicative nature, whose discourses are as full as fluent, and their judgements as right as their tongues ready: such men's talk shall be thy Lectures. To conclude, Good Company is not only profitable whilst a man lives, but sometimes when he is dead. For he that was buried with the bones of * 2. Kings. 13.21. Elisha, by a Posthumous miracle of that Prophet, recovered his life by lodging with such a grave-fellow. CHAP. 6. Of apparel. CLothes are for Necessity; warm clothes for Health; cleanly for Decency; lasting for Thrift; and rich for Magnificence. Now there may be a fault in their Number, if too various; Making, if too vain; Matter, if too costly; and Mind of the wearer, if he takes pride therein. We come therefore to some general directions. Maxim 1 It's a chargeable vanity to be constantly clothed above one's purse, or place. I say Constantly; for perchance sometimes it may be dispensed with. A Great man, who himself was very plain in apparel, checked a Gentleman for being over fine: who modestly answered, Your Lordship hath better clothes at home, and I have worse. But sure no plea can be made when this Luxury is grown to be ordinary. It was an arrogant act of * Math. Paris in joan. Anno. 1201. Hubert Archbishop of Canterbury, who, when King John had given his Courtiers rich Liveries, to Ape the Lion, gave his servants the like, wherewith the King was not a little offended. But what shall we say to the riot of our age, wherein (as Peacocks are more gay than the Eagle himself) subjects are grown braver than their sovereign? 2 'Tis beneath a wise man always to wear clothes beneath men of his rank. True, there is a state sometimes in decent plainness. When a wealthy Lord at a great Solemnity had the plainest apparel, O (said one) if you had marked it well his suit had the richest pockets. Yet it argues no wisdom, in clothes always to stoop beneath his condition. When Antisthenes saw Socrates in a torn coat, he shown a hole thereof to the people; And lo (quoth he) through this I see Socrates his pride. He shows a light gravity who loves to be an exception from a general fashion. 3 For the received custom in the place where we live is the most competent judge of decency; from which we must not appeal to our own opinion. When the French Courtiers mourning for their King * Mont. 1. book. Chap. 4. Henry the second had worn cloth a whole year, all silks became so vile in every man's eyes, that if any was seen to wear them, he was presently accounted a mechanic or country-fellow. It's a folly for one Proteus-like never to appear twice in one shape. 4 Had some of our Gallants been with the * Deuterono. 29.5. Israelites in the wilderness, when for forty years their clothes waxed not old, they would have been vexed, though their clothes were whole, to have been so long in one fashion. Yet here I must confess, I understand not what is reported of Fulgentius, that he used the same garment Winter and Summer, and never altered his * Vincentius. Spec. lib. 20. cap. 105. clothes, etiam in Sacris peragendis. He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a mad man, 5 laughs at the rattling of his fetters. For indeed, Clothes ought to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency. Besides, why should any brag of what's but borrowed? Should the ostrich snatch off the Gallants feather, the Beaver his hat, the Goat his gloves, the Sheep his suit, the silkworm his stockings, and Neat his shoes (to strip him no farther than modesty will give leave) he would be left in a cold condition. And yet 'tis more pardonable to be proud, even of cleanly rags, than (as many are) of affected slovennesse. The one is proud of a molehill, the other of a dunghill. To conclude, Sumptuary laws in this land to reduce apparel to a set standard of price, and fashion, according to the several states of men, have long been wished, but are little to be hoped for. Some think private men's superfluity is a necessary evil in a State, the floating of fashions affording a standing maintenance to many thousands which otherwise would be at a loss for a livelihood, men maintaining more by their pride then by their charity. CHAP. 7. Of Building. HE that altars an old house is tied as a translator to the original, and is confined to the fancy of the first builder. Such a man were unwise to pluck down good old building, to erect (perchance) worse new. But those that raise a new house from the ground are blame-worthy if they make it not handsome, seeing to them Method and Confusion are both at a rate. In building we must respect Situation, Contrivance, Receipt, Strength, and Beauty. Of Situation. Maxim 1. Chief choose a wholesome air. For air is a dish one feeds on every minute, and therefore it need be good. Wherefore great men (who may build where they please, as poor men where they can) if herein they prefer their profit above their health, I refer them to their Physicians to make them pay for it accordingly. 2 Wood and water are two staple commodities where they may be had. The former I confess hath made so much iron, that it must now be bought with the more silver, and grows daily dearer. But 'tis as well pleasant as profitable to see a house cased with trees, like that of Anchises in Troy. — * Virgil 2. Aeneid. 32. quanquam secreta parentis Anchisae domus arboribusque obtecta recessit. The worst is, where a place is bald of wood, no art can make it a periwig. As for water, begin with Pindars beginning, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The fort of * Camb. Brit. in Cambridgeshire. Gogmagog Hills nigh Cambridge is counted impregnable but for want of water, the mischief of many houses where servants must bring the well on their shoulders. Next a pleasant prospect is to be respected. 3 A medley view (such as of water and land at Greenwich) best entertains the eyes, refreshing the wearied beholder with exchange of objects. Yet I know a more profitable prospect, where the owner can only see his own land round about. A fair entrance with an easy ascent gives a great grace to a building: 4 where the Hall is a preferment out of the Court, the Parlour out of the Hall; not (as in some old buildings) where the doors are so low Pigmies must stoop, and the rooms so high that Giants may stand upright. But now we are come to Contrivance. Let not thy common rooms be several, 5 nor thy several rooms be common. The Hall (which is a Pandocheum) ought to lie open, and so ought Passages and Stairs (provided that the whole house be not spent in paths) Chambers and Closets are to be private and retired. Light (god's eldest daughter) is a principal beauty in a building: 6 yet it shines not alike from all parts of Heaven. An East-window welcomes the infant beams of the Sun, before they are of strength to do any harm, and is offensive to none but a sluggard. A South-window in summer is a chimney with a fire in't, and needs the schreen of a curtain. In a West-window in summer time towards night, the Sun grows low and over familiar with more light than delight. A North-window is best for Butteries and Cellars, where the beer will be sour for the Suns smiling on it. Thorow-lights are best for rooms of entertainment, and windows on one side for dormitories. As for Receipt, A house had better be too little for a day then too great for a year. 7 And it's easier borrowing of thy neighbour a brace of chambers for a night, than a bag of money for a twelvemonth. It is vain therefore to proportion the receipt to an extraordinary occasion, as those who by overbuilding their houses have dilapidated their lands, and their states have been pressed to death under the weight of their house. As for Strength, 8 Country-houses must be Substantives, able to stand of themselves. Not like City-buildings supported by their neighbours on either side. By Strength we mean such as may resist wether and Time, not Invasion, Castles being out of date in this peaceable age. As for the making of motes round about, it is questionable whether the fogs be not more unhealthful, than the fish brings profit, or the water defence. Beauty remains behind as the last to be regarded, because houses are made to be lived in not looked on. 9 Let not the Front look asquint on a stranger, but accost him right at his entrance. Uniformity also much pleaseth the eye; and 'tis observed that freestone, like a fair complexion, soon waxeth old, whilst brick keeps her beauty longest. 10 Let the office-houses observe the due distance from the mansion-house. Those are too familiar which presume to be of the same pile with it. The same may be said of stables and barns; without which a house is like a city without outworks, it can never hold out long. 11 Gardens also are to attend in their place. When God (Genesis 2.9) planted a garden Eastward, he made to grow out of the ground every tree pleasant to the sight, and good for food. Sure he knew better what was proper to a garden then those, who nowadays therein only feed the eyes, and starve both taste and smell. To conclude, in Building rather believe any man then an Artificer in his own art for matter of charges, not that they cannot but will not be faithful. Should they tell thee all the cost at the first, it would blast a young Builder in the budding, and therefore they soothe thee up till it hath cost thee something to confute them. The spirit of Building first possessed people after the flood, which then caused the confusion of languages, and since of the estate of many a man. CHAP. 8. Of Anger. ANger is one of the sinews of the soul; he that wants it hath a maimed mind, and with Jacob sinew-shrunk in the hollow of his thigh must needs halt. Nor is it good to converse with such as cannot be angry, and with the Caspian sea never ebb nor flow. This Anger is either Heavenly, when one is offended for God: or Hellish, when offended with God and goodness: or Earthly, in temporal matters. Which Earthly Anger (whereof we treat) may also be Hellish, if for no cause, no great cause, too hot, or too long. Be not angry with any without a cause. Maxim 1. If thou be'st, thou must not only, as the Proverb saith, be appeased without amends (having neither cost nor damage given thee) but, as our Saviour * Matth 5.22. saith, be in danger of the judgement. Be not mortally angry with any for a venial fault. 2 He will make a strange combustion in the state of his soul, who at the landing of every cockboat sets the beacons on fire. To be angry for every toy debases the worth of thy anger; for he who will be angry for any thing, will be angry for nothing. Let not thy anger be so hot, 3 but that the most torrid zone thereof may be habitable. Fright not people from thy presence with the terror of thy intolerable impatience. Some men like a tiled house are long before they take fire, but once on flame there is no coming near to quench them. Take heed of doing irrevocable acts in thy passion. 4 As the revealing of secrets, which makes thee a bankrupt for society ever after: neither do such things which done once are done for ever, so that no bemoaning can amend them. Sampsons' hair grew again, but not his eyes: Time may restore some losses, others are never to be repaired. Wherefore in thy rage make no Persian decree which cannot be reversed or repealed; but rather Polonian laws which (they say) last but three days: Do not in an instant what an age cannot recompense. 5 Anger kept till the next morning, with * Exod. 16.24. Manna, doth putrify and corrupt. Save that Manna corrupted not at all, and anger most of all, kept the next Sabbath. S. Paul * Ephes. 4.26. saith, Let not the sun go down on your wrath; to carry news to the Antipodes in another world of thy revengeful nature. Yet let us take the Apostles meaning, rather than his words, with all possible speed to depose our passion, not understanding him so literally that we may take leave to be angry till Sunset: then might our wrath lengthen with the days; and men in Greenland, where day lasts above a quarter of a year, have plentiful scope of revenge. And as the English (by command from William the conqueror) always raked up their fire, and put out their candles, when the * cowel's Interpreter out of Stow's Annals. Curfew-bell was rung; let us then also quench all sparks of anger and heat of passion. 6 He that keeps anger long in his bosom giveth place to the * Ephes. 4.27. devil. And why should we make room for him, who will crowd in too fast of himself? Heat of passion makes our souls to chap, and the devil creeps in at the crannies; yea a furious man in his fits may seem possessed with a devil, foams, fumes, tears himself, is deaf, and dumb in effect, to hear or speak reason: sometimes wallows, stairs, stamps, with fiery eyes and flaming cheeks. Had Narcissus himself seen his own face when he had been angry, he could never have fallen in love with himself. CHAP. 9 Of Expecting Preferment. THere are as many several tenors of Expectation as of Possession, some nearer, some more remote, some grounded on strong, others on weaker reasons. (As for a groundless Expectation, it is a wilful self-delusion. (We come to instructions how men should manage their hopes herein. Hope not for impossibilities. Maxim 1. For though the object of hope be Futurum possibile, yet some are so mad as to feed their Expectation on things, though not in themselves, yet to them impossible, if we consider the weakness of the means whereby they seek to attain them. He needs to stand on tiptoes that hopes to touch the moon; and those who expect what in reason they cannot expect, may expect. Carefully survey what proportion the means thou hast bear to the end thou expectest. 2 Count not a Courtiers promise of course a specialty that he is bound to prefer thee: Seeing compliments oftentimes die in the speaking, why should thy hopes (grounded on them) live longer than the hearing? perchance the text of his promise intended but common courtesies, which thy apprehension expounds speedy and special favours. Others make up the weakness of their means with conceit of the strength of their deserts, foolishly thinking that their own merits will be the undoubted Patrons to present them to all void Benefices. The heir apparent to the next preferment may be disinherited by an unexpected accident. 3 A Gentleman, servant to the Lord admiral Howard, was suitor to a Lady above his deserts, grounding the confidence of his success on his relation to so honourable a Lord; which Lord gave the Anchor as badge of his office, and therefore this suitor wrote in a window, If I be bold, The anchor is my hold. But his corrival to the same mistress coming into the same room wrote under, Yet fear the worst: What if the Cable burst? Thus useless is the Anchor of hope (good for nothing but to deceive those that rely on it) if the cable or small cords of means and causes whereon it depends fail and miscarry. Daily experience tenders too many examples. A Gentleman who gave a Basilisk for his Arms or Crest promised to make a young kinsman of his his heir, which kinsman to ingratiate himself painted a Basilisk in his study, and beneath it these verses, Falleris asspectu Basiliscum occidere, Plini, Nam vitae nostrae spem Basiliscus alit. The Basilisk's the only stay, My life preserving still; Pliny, thou li'dst when thou didst say The Basilisk doth kill. But this rich Gentleman dying frustrated his expectation, and bequeathed all his estate to another, whereupon the Epigram was thus altered, Certe aluit, sed spe vana, spes vana venenum: Ignoscas, Plini, verus es Historicus. Indeed vain hopes to me he gave, Whence I my poison drew: Pliny, thy pardon now I crave, Thy writings are too true. 4 Proportion thy expenses to what thou hast in possession, not to thy expectancies. Otherwise he that feeds on wind must needs be gripped with the colic at last. And if the ceremonial law forbade the Jews to seethe a kid in the mother's milk, the law of good husbandry forbids us to eat a kid in the mother's belly, spending our pregnant hopes before they be delivered. Imbrue not thy soul in bloody wishes of his death who parts thee and thy preferment. 5 A murder the more common, because one cannot be arraigned for it on earth. But those are charitable murderers which wish them in heaven, not so much that they may have ease a● their journey's end, but because they must needs take death in the way. In earthly matters expectation takes up more joy on trust, 6 than the fruition of the thing is able to discharge. The Lion is not so fierce as painted; nor are matters so fair as the pencil of the expectant limbs them out in his hopes. They forecount their wives fair, fruitful, and rich, without any fault; their children witty, beautiful, and dutiful, without any frowardness: and as S. Basil held that roses in paradise before man's fall grew without prickles, they abstract the pleasures of things from the troubles annexed to them, which when they come to enjoy, they must take both together. Surely a good unlooked for is a virgin happiness; whereas tho●e who obtain what long they have gazed on in expectation, only marry what themselves have deflowered before. When our hopes break let our patience hold: 7 relying on God's providence without murmuring, who often provides for men above what we can think or desire. When Robert * Godwin in his Catal. of Archbishops of York. Holgate could not peaceably enjoy his small living in Lincolnshire, because of the litigiousness of a neighbouring Knight, coming to London to right himself he came into the favour of King Henry the eighth, and got by degrees the archbishopric of York. Thus God sometimes defeats our hopes, or disturbs our possession of lesser favours, thereby to bestow on his servants better blessings, if not here, hereafter. CHAP. 10. Of Memory. IT is the treasure-house of the mind, wherein the monuments thereof are kept and preserved. Plato makes it the mother of the Muses. * Metaphys. lib. 1 cap. 1. Aristotle sets it one degree further, making Experience the mother of Arts, Memory the parent of Experience. Philosopher's place it in the rear of the head; and it seems the mine of Memory lies there, because there naturally men dig for it, scratching it when they are at a loss. This again is twofold: one, the simple retention of things; the other, a regaining them when forgotten. Maxim 1 Brute creatures equal, if not exceed, men in a bare retentive Memory. Through how many labyrinths of woods, without other clue of thread then natural instinct, doth the hunted hare return to her muce? How doth the little be, flying into several meadows and gardens, sipping of many cups, yet never intoxicated, through an ocean (as I may say) of air, steadily steer herself home, without help of card or compass. But these cannot play an aftergame, and recover what they have forgotten, which is done by the mediation of discourse. 2 Artificial memory is rather a trick then an art, and more for the gain of the teacher than profit of the learners. Like the tossing of a pike, which is no part of the postures and motions thereof, and is rather for ostentation then use, to show the strength and nimbleness of the arm, and is often used by wand'ring soldiers as an introduction to beg. Understand it of the artificial rules which at this day are delivered by Memory-mountebanks; for sure an art thereof may be made (wherein as yet the world is defective) and that no more destructive to natural Memory than spectacles are to eyes, which girls in Holland wear from 12 years of age. But till this be found out, let us observe these plain rules. First sound infix in thy mind what thou desirest to remember. 3 What wonder is it if agitation of business jog that out of thy head, which was there rather tacked then fastened? whereas those notions which get in by violenta possessio will abide there till ejectio firma, sickness or extreme age, dispossess them. It is best knocking in the nail overnight, and clinching it the next morning. Overburthen not thy Memory to make so faithful a servant a slave. 4 Remember Atlas was weary. Have as much reason as a camel, to rise when thou hast thy full load. Memory, like a purse, if it be over full that it cannot shut, all will drop out of it: Take heed of a gluttonous curiosity to feed on many things, lest the greediness of the appetite of thy Memory spoil the digestion thereof. Beza's case was peculiar and memorable; being above fourscore years of age he perfectly could say by heart any Greek Chapter in * Thuan. obit. doct. virorum. pag. 384. S. Paul's Epistles, or any thing else which he had learned long before, but forgot whatsoever was newly told him; his Memory like an inn retaining old guests, but having no room to entertain new. Spoil not thy Memory with thine own jealousy, 5 nor make it bad by suspecting it. How canst thou find that true which thou wilt not trust? S. Augustine tells us of his friend Simplicius, who being asked, could tell all Virgil's verses backward and forward, and yet the same party, * Testatus est Deum, nescisse se hoc; esse ante illud experimentum, August. Tom. 7. lib. de anima & ejus orig. cap. 7. vowed to God, that he knew not that he could do it till they did try him. Sure there is concealed strength in men's Memories, which they take no notice of. Martial thy notions into a handsome method. 6 One will carry twice more weight trust and packed up in bundles, than when it lies untowardly flapping and hanging about his shoulders. Things orderly fartheled up under heads are most portable. Adventure not all thy learning in one bottom, 7 but divide it betwixt thy Memory and thy Note-books. He that with Bias carries all his learning about him in his head will utterly be beggared and bankrupt, if a violent disease, a merciless thief, should rob and strip him. I know some have a Common-place against Common-place-books, and yet perchance will privately make use of what publicly they declaim against. A Common-place-book contains many Notions in garrison, whence the owner may draw out an army into the field on competent warning. 8 Moderate diet and good air preserve Memory; but what air is best I dare not define, when such great ones differ. * Plato, Aristotle, Tully. Some say a pure and subtle air is best, another commends a thick and foggy air. For the * Singulari valent memoriâ quo urbs crassiore fruatur acre, Mercat. Atlas in Tussia. Pisans sited in the fens and marish of Arnus have excellent memories, as if the foggy air were a cap for their heads. 9 Thankfulness to God for it continues the Memory: whereas some proud people have been visited with such oblivion, that they have forgotten their own names. Staupitius' tutor to Luther, and a godly man, in a vain ostentation of his memory repeated Christ's genealogy (Matth. 1.) by heart in his Sermon, but being out about the Captivity of Babylon, I see (saith * Melchior Adamus in vita Staupitii, pag. 20. he) God resisteth the proud, and so betook himself to his book. Abuse not thy Memory to be sin's Register, nor make advantage thereof for wickedness. Excellently * De civ. Dei lib. 7. cap. 3. Augustine, Quidam vero pessimi memoria sunt mirabili, qui tanto pejores sunt, quanto minus possunt, quae male cogitant, oblivisci. CHAP. 11. Of fancy. IT is an inward Sense of the soul, for a while retaining and examining things brought in thither by the Common sense. It is the most boundless and restless faculty of the soul: for whilst the Understanding and the Will are kept as it were in Libera Custodia to their objects of Verum & Bonum, the fancy is free from all engagements: it digs without spade, sails without ship, flies without wings, builds without charges, fights without bloodshed, in a moment striding from the centre to the circumference of the world, by a kind of omnipotency creating and annihilating things in an instant; and things divorced in Nature are married in fancy as in a lawless place. It is also most restless: whilst the Senses are bound, and Reason in a manner asleep, fancy like a sentinel walks the round, ever working, never wearied. The chief diseases of the fancy are, either that they are too wild and high-soaring, or else too low and grovelling, or else too desultory and overvoluble. Of the first. If thy fancy be but a little too rank, Maxim 1 age itself will correct it. To lift too high is no fault in a young horse, because with travelling he will mend it for his own ease. Thus lofty fancies in young men will come down of themselves, and in process of time the overplus will shrink to be but even measure. But if this will not do it, then observe these rules. Take part always with thy judgement against thy fancy in any thing wherein they shall descent. 2 If thou suspectest thy conceits too luxuriant, herein account thy suspicion a legal conviction, and damn whatsoever thou doubtest of. Warily Tully, Bene monent, qui vetant quicquam facere, de quo dubitas, aequum sit an iniquum. Take the advice of a faithful friend, 3 and submit thy inventions to his censure. When thou pennest an oration, let him have the power of Index expurgatorius, to expunge what he pleaseth; and do not thou like a fond mother cry if the child of thy brain be corrected for playing the wanton. Mark the arguments and reasons of his alterations, why that phrase least proper, this passage more cautious and advised, and after a while thou shalt perform the place in thine own person, and not go out of thyself for a censurer. If thy fancy be too low and humble, 4 Let thy judgement be King but not Tyrant over it, to condemn harmless yea commendable conceits. Some for fear their orations should giggle will not let them smile. Give it also liberty to rove, for it will not be extravagant. There is no danger that weak folks if they walk abroad will straggle fare, as wanting strength. 5 Acquaint thyself with reading Poets, for there fancy is in her throne; and in time the sparks of the authors wit will catch hold on the Reader, and inflame him with love, liking, and desire of imitation. I confess there is more required to teach one to write then to see a copy: however there is a secret force of fascination in reading Poems to raise and provoke fancy. If thy fancy be over voluble, then 6 Whip this vagrant home to the first object whereon it should be settled. Indeed nimbleness is the perfection of this faculty, but levity the bane of it. Great is the difference betwixt a swift horse, and a skittish, that will stand on no ground. Such is the ubiquitary fancy, which will keep long residence on no one subject, but is so courteous to strangers that it ever welcomes that conceit most which comes last; and new species supplant the old ones, before seriously considered. If this be the fault of thy fancy, I say whip it home to the first object, whereon it should be settled. This do as often as occasion requires, and by degrees the fugitive servant will learn to abide by his work without running away. Acquaint thyself by degrees with hard and knotty studies, 7 as School-divinity, which will clog thy overnimble fancy. True, at the first it will be as welcome to thee as a prison, and their very solutions will seem knots unto thee. But take not too much at once, lest thy brain turn edge. Taste it first as a potion for physic, and by degrees thou shalt drink it as beer for thirst: Practice will make it pleasant. Mathematics are also good for this purpose: If beginning to try a Conclusion, thou must make an end, lest thou losest thy pains that are past, and must proceed seriously and exactly. I meddle not with those Bedlam-phancies, all whose conceits are antiques, but leave them for the Physician to purge with hellebore. To cloth low-creeping matter with highflown language is not fine fancy, 8 but flat foolery. It rather loads than raises a Wren, to fasten the feathers of an ostrich to her wings. Some men's speeches are like the high mountains in Ireland, having a dirty bog in the top of them; the very ridge of them in high words having nothing of worth, but what rather stalls then delights the auditor. Fine fancies in manufactures invent engines rather pretty then useful; 9 and commonly one trade is too narrow for them. They are better to project new ways then to prosecute old, and are rather skilful in many mysteries then thriving in one. They affect not voluminous inventions, wherein many years must constantly be spent to perfect them, except there be in them variety of pleasant employment. Imagination (the work of the fancy) hath produced real effects. 10 Many serious and sad examples hereof may be produced: I will only insist on a merry one. A Gentleman having led a company of children beyond their usual journey, they began to be weary, and jointly cried to him to carry them; which because of their multitude he could not do, but told them he would provide them horses to ride on. Then cutting little wands out of the hedge as nags for them, and a great stake as a gelding for himself, thus mounted fancy put mettle into their legs, and they came cheerfully home. 11 Fancy runs most furiously when a guilty Conscience drives it. One that owed much money, and had many creditors, as he walked London-streets in the evening, a tenterhook catched his cloak. At whose suit? said he, conceiving some Bailiff had arrested him. Thus guilty Consciences are afraid where no fear is, and count every creature they meet a sergeant sent from God to punish them. CHAP. 12. Of natural Fools. THey have the cases of men, and little else of them besides speech and laughter. And indeed it may seem strange that Risibile being the property of man alone, they who have least of man should have most thereof, laughing without cause or measure. Maxim 1 Generally Nature hangs out a sign of simplicity in the face of a Fool; and there is enough in his countenance for an Hue and cry to take him on suspicion: or else it is stamped on the figure of his body; their heads sometimes so little, that there is no room for wit; sometimes so long, that there is no wit for so much room. 2 Yet some by their faces may pass currant enough till they cry themselves down by their speaking. Thus men know the bell is cracked, when they hear it tolled; yet some that have stood out the assault of two or three questions, and have answered pretty rationally, have afterwards of their own accord betrayed and yielded themselves to be fools. 3 The oaths and railing of Fools is oftentimes no fault of theirs but their teachers. The Hebrew word Barac signifies to bless, and to curse; and 'tis the speakers pleasure if he use it in the worst acception. Fools of themselves are equally capable to pray and to swear; they therefore have the greatest sin who by their example or otherwise teach them so to do. One may get wisdom by looking on a Fool. 4 In beholding him, think how much thou art beholden to him that suffered thee not to be like him: only God's pleasure put a difference betwixt you. And consider that a Fool and a Wiseman are alike both in the starting-place, their birth, and at the post, their death; only they differ in the race of their lives. It is unnatural to laugh at a natural. 5 How can the object of thy pity be the subject of thy pastime? I confess sometimes the strangeness, and, as I may say, witty simplicity of their actions may extort a smile from a serious man, who at the same time may smile at them and sorrow for them. But it is one thing to laugh at them in transitu, a snap and away, and another to make a set meal in jeering them, and as the Philistines to send for Samson to make them sport. To make a trade of laughing at a Fool is the highway to become one. 6 Tully confesseth that whilst he laughed at one * Epist. lib. 2. Epist. 9 Hircus a very ridiculous man, dum illum rideo pene factus sum ille: And one telleth us of Gallus Vibius, a man first of great eloquence, and afterwards of great madness, which seized not on him so much by accident as his own affectation, so long * Dum insanos imitatur, quod assimulabat ad vivum redegit, Rhodiginus Antiq. lib. 11. c. 13. mimically imitating mad men that he became one. Many have been the wise speeches of fools, 7 though not so many as the foolish speeches of wise men. Now the wise speeches of these silly souls proceed from one of these reasons: Either because talking much, and shooting often, they must needs hit the mark sometimes, though not by aim, by hap: Or else because a Fools mediocriter is optime; Sense from his mouth, a Sentence; and a tolerable speech cried up for an Apothegme: Or lastly, because God may sometimes illuminate them, and (especially towards their death) admit them to the possession of some part of reason. A poor beggar in Paris being very hungry stayed so long in a cook's shop, who was dishing up of meat, till his stomach was satisfied with the only smell thereof. The choleric covetous Cook demanded of him to pay for his breakfast. The pooreman denied it, and the controversy was referred to the deciding of the next man that should pass by, which chanced to be the most notorious Idiot in the whole City. He on the relation of the matter determined that the poor man's money should be put betwixt two empty dishes, and the Cook should be recompensed with the gingling of the poor man's money, as he was satisfied with the only smell of the cook's meat. And this is affirmed by * Io. And. Panor. Barba. & alii indè ad nostram. Hiero. Franc. in lib. furios. de reg. juris ff. Boer. decis. 23 n 58. Mantic. de conject. ult. v. lib. 2. Tit. 5. n. 8. Corset. sing. verbi Testamentum. credible Writers, as no fable but an undoubted fact. More waggish was that of a rich landed Fool, whom a Courtier had begged, and carried about to wait on him. He coming with his master to a gentleman's house where the picture of a Fool was wrought in a fair suit of arras, cut the picture out with a penknife. And being chidden for so doing, You have more cause (said he) to thank me, for if my master had seen the picture of the Fool, he would have begged the hang of the King as he did my lands. When the standers by comforted a natural which lay on his deathbed, and told him that four proper fellows should carry his body to the Church: Yea (quoth he) but I had rather by half go thither myself; and then prayed to God at his last gasp not to require more of him then he gave him. As for a Changeling, which is not one child changed for another, but one child on a sudden much changed from itself; and for a Jester, which some count a necessary evil in a Court (an office which none but he that hath wit can perform, and and none but he that wants wit will perform) I conceive them not to belong to the present subject. CHAP. 13. Of Recreations. REcreation is a second Creation, when weariness hath almost annihilated one's spirits. It is the breathing of the soul, which otherwise would be stifled with continual business. We may trespass in them, if using such as are forbidden by the Lawyer, as against the statutes; Physician, as against health; Divine, as against conscience. Be well satisfied in thy Conscience of the lawfulness of the recreation thou usest. Maxim 1 Some fight against Cockfighting, and bait Bull and bear-baiting, because man is not to be a common Barretour to set the creatures at discord; and seeing Antipathy betwixt creatures was kindled by man's sin, what pleasure can he take to see it burn? Others are of the contrary opinion, and that Christianity gives us a placard to use these sports; and that man's Charter of dominion over the creatures enables him to employ them as well for pleasure as necessity. In these, as in all other doubtful recreations, be well assured first of the legality of them. He that sins against his Conscience sins with a witness. Spill not the morning (the quintessence of the day) in recreations. 2 For sleep itself is a recreation; add not therefore sauce to sauce; and he cannot properly have any title to be refreshed, who was not first faint. Pastime, like wine, is poison in the morning. It is then good husbandry to sow the head, which hath lain fallow all night, with some serious work. Chief entrench not on the Lords day to use unlawful sports; this were to spare thine own flock, and to shear God's lamb. Let thy recreations be ingenious, 3 and bear proportion with thine age. If thou sayest with Paul, When I was a child I did as a child, say also with him, But when I was a man I put away childish things. Wear also the child's coat, if thou usest his sports. 4 Take heed of boisterous and overviolent exercises. Ringing oftentimes hath made good music on the bells, and put men's bodies out of tune, so that by overheating themselves they have rung their own passing-bell. 5 Yet the ruder sort of people scarce count any thing a sport which is not loud and violent. The Muscovite women esteem none loving husbands except they beat their wives. 'Tis no pastime with country Clowns that cracks not pates, breaks not shins, bruises not limbs, tumbles and tosses not all the body. They think themselves not warm in their gears, till they are all on fire; and count it but dry sport, till they swim in their own sweat. Yet I conceive the Physicians rule in exercises, Ad ruborem but non ad sudorem, is too scant measure. 6 Refresh that part of thyself which is most wearied. If thy life be sedentary, exercise thy body; if stirring and active, recreate thy mind. But take heed of cozening thy mind, in setting it to do a double task under pretence of giving it a playday, as in the labyrinth of chess, and other tedious and studious Games. 7 Yet recreations distasteful to some dispositions relish best to others. Fishing with an angle is to some rather a torture then a pleasure, to stand an hour as mute as the fish they mean to take: yet herewithal * In his life writ by Mr. Ashton. doctor Whitaker was much delighted. When some Noblemen had gotten William Cecil Lord Burleigh and Treasurer of England to ride with them a hunting, & the sport began to be cold; What call you this, said the Treasurer? Oh now said they the dogs are at a fault. Yea quoth the Treasurer, take me again in such a fault, and I'll give you leave to punish me. Thus as soon may the same meat please all palates, as the same sport suit with all dispositions. 8 Running, Leaping, and Dancing, the descants on the plain song of walking, are all excellent exercises. And yet those are the best recreations which besides refreshing enable, at least dispose, men to some other good ends. Bowling teaches men's hands and eyes mathematics, and the rules of Proportion: Swimming hath saved many a man's life, when himself hath been both the wares, and the ship: Tilting and Fencing is war without anger; and manly sports are the grammar of Military performance. But above all Shooting is a noble recreation, 9 and an half liberal art. A rich man told a poor man that he walked to get a stomach for his meat: And I, said the poor man, walk to get meat for my stomach. Now Shooting would have fitted both their turns; it provides food when men are hungry, and helps digestion when they are full. King Edward the sixth (though he drew no strong bow) shot very well, and when once John Dudley Duke of Northumberland commended him for hitting the mark; You shot better (quoth the King) when you shot off my good uncle protectors head. But our age sees his successor exceeding him in that art, whose eye like his judgement is clear and quick to discover the mark, and his hands as just in Shooting as in dealing aright. Some sports being granted to be lawful, 10 more propend to be ill then well used. Such I count stageplays, when made always the actors work, and often the spectators recreation. * Plin. nat. Hist. lib. 35. cap. 10. Zeuxis the curious picturer painted a boy holding a dish full of grapes in his hand, done so lively that the birds being deceived flew to peck the grapes. But Zeuxis in an ingenious choler was angry with his own workmanship. Had I (said he) made the boy as lively as the grapes the birds would have been afraid to touch them. Thus two things are set forth to us in stageplays: some grave sentences, prudent counsels, and punishment of vicious examples; and with these desperate oaths, lustful talk, and riotous acts are so personated to the life, that wantoness are tickled with delight, and feed their palates upon them. It seems the goodness is not portrayed out with equal accents of liveliness as the wicked things are: otherwise men would be deterred from vicious courses, with seeing the woeful success which follows them. But the main is, wanton speeches on stages are the devil's ordinance to beget badness; but I question whether the pious speeches spoken there be God's ordinance to increase goodness, as wanting both his institution and benediction. 11 Choke not thy soul with immoderate pouring in the cordial of pleasures. The Creation lasted but six days of the first week: profane they whose Recreation lasts seven days every week. Rather abridge thyself of thy lawful liberty herein; it being a wary rule which S. * Lib. 5. moral. & Homil. 35. supra Evang. Gregory gives us, Solus in illicitis non cadit, qui se aliquando & à licitis caute restringit. And then Recreations shall both strengthen labour, and sweeten rest, and we may expect God's blessing and protection on us in following them, as well as in doing our work: For he that faith grace for his meat, in it prays also to God to bless his sauce unto him. As for those that will not take lawful pleasure, I am afraid they will take unlawful pleasure, and by lacing themselves too hard grow awry on one side. CHAP. 14. Of tombs. Tombs are the clothes of the dead: a Grave is but a plain suit, and a rich Monument is one embroidered. Most moderate men have been careful for the decent interment of their corpse. Few of the fond mind of Arbogastus an Irish Saint, and Bishop of Spires in Germany, who would be buried near the * Warraeus de Scriptor. Hiber. pag. 26. Gallows in imitation of our Saviour, whose grave was in mount Calvary near the place of execution. 'Tis a provident way to make one's tomb in ones life-time; Maxim 1 both hereby to prevent the negligence of heirs, and to mind him of his mortality. * Georgi●. lib. 4. Virgil tells us that when bees swarm in the air, and two armies meeting together fight as it were a set battle with great violence, cast but a little dust upon them and they will be quiet, Hi motus animorum, atque haec certamina tanta Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt. These stir of their minds and strive vast, If but a little dust on them be cast, Are straightways stinted, and quite overpast. Thus the most ambitious motions and thoughts of man's mind are quickly quelled when dust is thrown on him, whereof his fore-prepared Sepulchre is an excellent remembrancer. Yet some seem to have built their tombs, 2 therein to bury their thoughts of dying, never thinking thereof, but embracing the world with greater greediness. A Gentleman made choice of a fair stone, and intending the same for his Grave-stone, caused it to be pitched up in a field a pretty distance from his house, and used often to shoot at it for his exercise. Yea but (said a wag that stood by) you would be loath Sir to hit the mark: And so are many unwilling to die who notwithstanding have erected their Monuments. 3 Tombs ought in some sort to be proportioned not to the wealth but deserts of the party interred. Yet may we see some rich man of mean worth loaden under a tomb big enough for a Prince to bear. There were Officers appointed in the * Lucian. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Grecian Games, who always by public authority did pluck down the Statues erected to the victor's, if they exceeded the true symmetry and proportion of their bodies. We need such nowadays to order Monuments to men's merits, chief to reform such depopulating tombs as have no good fellowship with them, but engross all the room, leaving neither seats for the living, nor graves for the dead. It was a wise and thrifty law which * Hector both in the life of King Reutha. Reutha King of Scotland made, That Noblemen should have so many pillars, or long pointed stones set on their sepulchers, as they had slain enemies in the wars. If this order were also enlarged to those who in peace had excellently deserved of the Church or Commonwealth, it might well be revived. 4 Overcostly tombs are only baits for sacrilege. Thus sacrilege hath beheaded that peerless Prince King Henry the fift, the body of whose Statue on his tomb in Westminster was covered over with silver plate guilded, and his head of * I. Speed in the end of Henry the 5. massy silver; both which now are stolen away: Yea hungry palates will feed on courser meat. I had rather * In the descript▪ of London, broadstreetward, pag. 184. Mr Stow then I should tell you of a Nobleman who sold the monuments of Noblemen, in S. Augustine's Church in Broadstreet, for an hundred pound, which cost many thousands, and in the place thereof made fair stabling for horses; as if Christ who was born in a stable should be brought into it the second time. It was not without cause in the civil Law that a wife might be divorced, from her husband, if she could prove him to be one that had * Si nimirum sepulchrorum dissolutorem esse probaverit, Kirkman. de suner. Roman. lib. 3. c. 26. ex cod. de repudiis. broken the sepulchers of the dead: For it was presumed he must needs be a tyrannical husband to his wife, who had not so much mercy as to spare the ashes of the departed. The shortest, 5 plainest, & truest Epitaphs are best. I say, the Shortest; for when a Passenger sees a Chronicle written on a tomb, he takes it on trust, some Great man lies there buried, without taking pains to examine who he is. Mr Cambden in his Remains presents us with examples of Great men that had little * as, Fui Caius. Scaligeri quod r●liquum est. Depositum Cardinalis Poli, etc. Epitaphs. And when once I asked a witty Gentleman, an honoured friend of mine, what Epitaph was fittest to be written on Mr Cambdens tomb. Let it be, said he, cambden's REMAINS. I say also the Plainest; for except the sense lie above ground, few will trouble themselves to dig for't. Lastly, it must be True: Not as as in some Monuments, where the red veins in the marble may seem to blush at the falsehoods written on it. He was a witty man that first taught a stone to speak, but he was a wicked man that taught it first to lie. To want a Grave is the cruelty of the living, 6 not the misery of the dead. An English Gentleman not long since did lie on his deathbed in Spain, and the Jesuits did flock about him to pervert him to their Religion. All was in vain. Their last argument was, If you will not turn Roman Catholic, then your body shall be unburied. Then (answered he) I'll stink, and so turned his head and died. Thus love, if not to the dead, to the living will make him, if not a grave, a hole: and it was the beggar's Epitaph, Nudus eram vivus, mortuus ecce tegor. Naked I lived, but being dead, Now behold I'm covered. A good Memory is the best Monument. 7 Others are subject to Casualty and Time, and we know that the Pyramids themselves doting with age have forgotten the names of their Founders. To conclude, Let us be careful to provide rest for our souls, and our bodies will provide rest for themselves. And let us not be herein like unto Gentlewomen, which care not to keep the inside of the orange, but candy and preserve only the outside thereof. CHAP. 15. Of deformity. Deformity is either natural, Voluntary, or Adventitious, being either caused by God's unseen Providence (by men nicknamed, Chance) or by man's Cruelty. We will take them in order. Maxim 1 If thou be'st not so handsome as thou wouldst have been thank God thou art no more unhandsome than thou art. 'Tis his mercy thou art not the mark for passengers fingers to point at, an Heteroclite in Nature, with some member defective or redundant. Be glad that thy clay-cottage hath all the necessary rooms thereto belonging, though the outside be not so fairly plastered as some others. 2 Yet is it lawful and commendable by Art to correct the defects and deformities of Nature. Ericthonius' being a goodly man from the girdle upwards, but, as the Poets feign, having downwards the body of a * Servius in illud Virgilii lib. 3. Georg Primus Ericthonius, etc. Serpent (moralise him to have had some defect in his feet) first invented charets, wherein he so sat that the upper parts of him might be seen, and the rest of his body concealed. Little heed is to be given to his * Sanders de schism. Anglic. lib. 1. pag. 17. lying pen, who maketh Anna Bollen, Mother to Queen Elizabeth, the first finder out and wearer of ruffs, to cover a wen she had in her neck. Yet the matter's not much, such an addition of Art being without any fraud or deceit. Mock not at those who are misshapen by Nature. There is the same reason of the poor and of the deformed; he that despiseth them despiseth God that made them. A poor man is a picture of Gods own making, but set in a plain frame, not guilded: a deformed man is also his workmanship, but not drawn with even lines and lively colours: The former, not for want of wealth, as the latter not for want of skill, but both for the pleasure of the maker. As for * 〈◊〉. 7. Polit. cap. 16. Aristotle, who would have parents expose their deformed children to the wide world without caring for them, his opinion herein, not only deformed but most monstrous, deserves rather to be exposed to the scorn and contempt of all men. Some people handsome by Nature have wilfully deformed themselves. 4 Such as wear Bacchus his colours in their faces, arising not from having, but being, bad livers. When the woman (the first of Kings, the 3. and 21.) considered the child that was laid by her, Behold, said she, it was not my son which I did bear. Should God survey the faces of many men and women, he would not own and acknowledge them for those which he created: many are so altered in colour, and some in sex, women to men, and men to women in their monstrous fashions, so that they who behold them cannot by the evidence of their apparel give up their verdict of what sex they are. It is most safe to call the users of these hermaphroditical fashions, Francisses, and Philip's, names agreeing to both sexes. Confessors which wear the badges of truth are thereby made the more beautiful; 5 though deformed in time of Persecution for Christ's sake through men's malice. This made Constantine the Great to * Russin. lib. 1. cap. 4. kiss the hole in the face of Paphnutius, out of which the Tyrant Maximinus had bored his eye for the profession of the faith, the good Emperor making much of the socket even when the candle was put out. Next these, wounds in war are most honourable: Halting is the stateliest march of a soldier; and 'tis a brave sight to see the flesh of an Ancient as torn as his Colours. He that mocks at the marks of valour in a soldier's face, is likely to live to have the brands of justice on his own shoulders. 6 Nature oftentimes recompenseth deformed bodies with excellent wits. witness Aesop, than whose Fables children cannot read an easier, nor men a wiser book; for all latter moralists do but write comments upon them. Many jeering wits who have thought to have rid at their ease on the bowed backs of some Cripples, have by their unhappy answers been unhorsed and thrown flat on their own backs. A jeering Gentleman commended a beggar who was deformed and little better than blind for having an excellent eye, True (said the beggar) for I can discern an honest man from such a knave as you are. 7 Their souls have been the Chappells of sanctity, whose bodies have been the Spitolls of deformity. An * Guliel. Malm. lib. 2. cap. 10. Emperor of Germany coming by chance on a Sunday into a Church, found there a most misshapen Priest, pene portentum Naturae, insomuch as the Emperor scorned and contemned him. But when he heard him read those words in the Service, For it is he that made us and not we ourselves, the Emperor checked his own proud thoughts, and made inquiry into the quality and condition of the man, and finding him on examination to be most learned and devout, he made him Archbishop of Colen, which place he did excellently discharge. CHAP. 16. Of Plantations. PLantations make mankind broader, as Generation makes it thicker. To advance an happy Plantation the Undertakers, Planters, and Place itself must contribute their endeavours. Let the prime undertakers be men of no shallow heads, Maxim 1 nor narrow fortunes. Such as have a real Estate, so that if defeated in their adventure abroad, they may have a retreating place at home, and such as will be contented with their present loss to be benefactors to posterity. But if the Prince himself be pleased not only to wink at them with his permission, but also to smile on them with his encouragement, there is great hope of success: for than he will grant them some immunities and privileges. Otherwise (Infants must be swathed not laced) young Plantations will never grow, if straitened with as hard Laws as settled commonwealths. Let the Planters be honest, 2 skilful, and painful people. For if they be such as leap thither from the gallows, can any hope for cream out of scum? when men send (as I may say) Christian Savages to Heathen Savages. It was rather bitterly then falsely spoken concerning one of our Western Plantations (consisting most of dissolute people) That it was very like unto England, as being spit out of the very mouth of it. Nor must the Planters be only honest but industrious also. What hope is there that they who were drones at home will be bees abroad, especially if fare off from any to oversee them. Let the place be naturally strong, 3 or at leastwise capable of fortification. For though at the first Planters are sufficiently fenced with their own poverty, and though at the beginning their worst enemies will spare them out of pity to themselves, their spoil not countervailing the cost of spoiling them; yet when once they have gotten wealth, they must get strength to defend it. Here know lands are easily shut, whereas Continents have their doors ever open, not to be bolted without great charges. Besides, unadvised are those Planters, who having choice of ground, have built their Towns in places of a servile nature, as being overawed and constantly commanded by some hills about them. 4 Let it have a Self-sufficiency, or some Staple commodity to balance traffic with other countries'. As for a self-sufficiency few countries can stand alone, and such as can for matter of want, will for wantonness lean on others. Staple commodities are such as are never out of fashion, as belonging to a man's Being, Being with comfort, Being with delight, the Luxury of our age having made superfluities necessary. And such a place will thrive the better, when men may say with Isaac, * Gen. 26.22. Rehoboth, Now the Lord hath made room for us, when new Colonies come not in with extirpation of the Natives; for this is rather a Supplanting then a Planting. 5 Let the Planters labour to be loved and feared of the Natives. With whom let them use all just bargaining, being as naked in their deal with them as the other in their going, keeping all covenants, performing all promises with them: Let them embrace all occasions to convert them, knowing that each Convert is a conquest; and it is more honour to overcome paganism in one, then to conquer a thousand Pagans. As for the inscription of a Deity in their hearts it need not be new written, but only new scoured in them. I am confident that America (though the youngest sister of the four) is now grown marriageable, and daily hopes to get Christ to her husband, by the Preaching of the Gospel. This makes me attentively to listen after some Protestant first-fruits, in hope the harvest will ripen afterwards. CHAP. 17. Of Contentment. IT is one property which (they say) is required of those who seek for the philosopher's stone, that they must not do it with any covetous desire to be rich; for otherwise they shall never find it. But most true it is that whosoever would have this jewel of Contentment (which turns all into Gold, yea Want into Wealth) must come with minds devested of all ambitious and covetous thoughts, else are they never likely to obtain it. We will describe Contentment first negatively: It is not a senseless stupidity what becomes of our outward estates. Maxim 1 God would have us take notice of all accidents which from him happen to us in worldly matters. Had the Martyrs had the dead palsy before they went to the stake to be burnt, their sufferings had not been so glorious. It is not a word-braving, 2 or scorning of all wealth in discourse. Generally those who boast most of Contentment have least of it. Their very boasting shows that they want something, and basely beg it, namely Commendation. These in their language are like unto kites in their flying, which mount in the air so scornfully, as if they disdained to stoop for the whole earth, fetching about many stately circuits: but what is the Spirit these conjurers with so many circles intent to raise? a poor chicken, or perchance a piece of carrion: And so the height of the others proud boasting will humble itself for a little base gain. But it is an humble and willing submitting ourselves to God's pleasure in all conditions. 3 One observeth (how truly I dispute not) that the French naturally have so elegant and graceful a carriage, that what posture of body soever in their salutations, or what fashion of attire soever they are pleased to take on them it doth so beseem them, that one would think nothing can become them better. Thus Contentment makes men carry themselves gracefully in wealth, want, in health, sickness, freedom, fetters, yea what condition soever God allots them. 4 It is no breach of Contentment for men to complain that their sufferings are unjust, as offered by men: provided they allow them for just, as proceeding from God, who useth wicked men's injustice to correct his children. But let us take heed that we by't not so high at the handle of the rod, as to fasten on his hand that holds it; our discontentments mounting so high as to quarrel with God himself. 5 It is no breach of Contentment for men by lawful means to seek the removal of their misery, and bettering of their estate. Thus men ought by industry to endeavour the getting of more wealth, ever submitting themselves to Gods will. A lazy hand is no argument of a Contented heart. Indeed he that is idle, and followeth after vain persons shall have enough, but how? Prov. 28.19. Shall have poverty enough. 6 God's Spirit is the best Schoolmaster to teach Contentment: A Schoolmaster who can make good Scholars, and warrant the success as well as his endeavour. The School of Sanctified afflictions is the best place to learn Contentment in: I say, Sanctified; for naturally, like resty horses, we go the worse for the beating, if God bless not afflictions unto us. 7 Contentment consisteth not in adding more fuel, but in taking away some fire: not in multiplying of wealth, but in substracting men's desires. Worldly riches, like nuts, tear many clothes in getting them, spoil many teeth in cracking them, but fill no belly with eating them, obstructing only the stomach with toughness, and filling the guts with windiness: Yea our souls may sooner surfeit then be satisfied with earthly things. He that at first thought ten thousand pound too much for any one man, will afterwards think ten millions too little for himself. Men create more discontents to themselves, 8 than ever happened to them from others. We read of our Saviour that at the burial of Lazarus, John 11.33. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, He troubled himself, by his spirit raising his own passions, though without any ataxy or sinful disturbance. What was an act of power in him, is an act of weakness in other men: Man disquieteth himself in vain, with many causeless and needless afflictions. Pious meditations much advantage Contentment in adversity. 9 Such as these are, to consider first, that more are beneath us then above us; secondly, many of God's dear Saints have been in the same condition; thirdly, we want rather superfluities than necessities; fourthly, the more we have the more we must account for; fifthly, earthly blessings through man's corruption are more prone to be abused then well used. In some fenny places in England, where they are much troubled with gnats, they use to hang up dung in the midst of the room for a bait for the gnats to fly to, and so catch them with a net provided for the purpose. Thus the devil ensnareth the souls of many men by alluring them with the muck and dung of this world, to undo them eternally; sixthly, we must leave all earthly wealth at our death, and riches avail not in the day of wrath. But as some use to fill up the stamp of light gold with dirt, thereby to make it weigh the heavier; so it seems some men load their souls with thick clay, to make them pass the better in God's balance, but all to no purpose; seventhly, the less we have, the less it will grieve us to leave this world; lastly, it is the will of God, and therefore both for his glory and our good, whereof we ought to be assured. I have heard how a Gentleman travelling in a misty morning asked of a Shepherd (such men being generally skilled in the physiognomy of the Heavens) what weather it would be? It will be, said the Shepherd, what weather shall please me: and being courteously requested to express his meaning, Sir (saith he) it shall be what weather pleaseth God, and what weather pleaseth God, pleaseth me. Thus Contentment maketh men to have even what they think fitting themselves, because submitting to Gods will and pleasure. To conclude, A man ought to be like unto a cunning actor, who if he be enjoined to represent the person of some Prince or Nobleman, does it with a grace and comeliness; if by and by he be commanded to lay that aside, and play the beggar, he does that as willingly and as well. But as it happened in a Tragedy (to spare naming the Person and Place) that one being to act Theseus, in Hercules Furens, coming out of Hell, could not for a long time be persuaded to wear old sooty clothes proper to his part, but would needs come out of Hell in a white Satin doublet: so we are generally loath, and it goes against flesh and blood, to live in a low and poor estate, but would fain act in richer and handsomer clothes, till Grace, with much ado, subdues our rebellious stomaches to Gods will. CHAP. 18. Of Books. SOlomon saith truly, Of making many Books there is no end, so insatiable is the thirst of men therein: as also endless is the desire of many in buying and reading them. But we come to our Rules. It is a vanity to persuade the world one hath much learning by getting a great library. Maxim 1 As soon shall I believe every one is valiant that hath a well furnished armoury. I guess good housekeeping by the smoking, not the number of the tunnels, as knowing that many of them (built merely for uniformity) are without chimneys, and more without fires. Once a dunce, void of learning but full of Books, flouted a library-lesse Scholar with these words, Salve Doctor sine libris: But the next day the Scholar coming into this jeerers study crowded with Books, Salvete libri (saith he) sine Doctore. Few Books well selected are best. 2 Yet as a certain Fool bought all the pictures that came out, because he might have his choice; such is the vain humour of many men in gathering of Books: yet when they have done all, they miss their end, it being in the Editions of authors as in the fashions of clothes, when a man thinks he hath gotten the latest and newest, presently another newer comes out. Some Books are only cursorily to be tasted of. 3 Namely first Voluminous Books, the task of a man's life to read them over; secondly, Auxiliary Books, only to be repaired to on occasions; thirdly, such as are mere pieces of Formality, so that if you look on them you look thorough them; and he that peeps thorough the casement of the Index sees as much as if he were in the house. But the laziness of those cannot be excused who perfunctorily pass over authors of consequence, and only trade in their Fables and Contents. These like City-Cheaters having gotten the names of all country Gentlemen, make silly people believe they have long lived in those places where they never were, and flourish with skill in those authors they never seriously studied. 4 The Genius of the author is commonly discovered in the Dedicatory epistle. Many place the purest grain in the mouth of the sack for chapmen to handle or buy: And from the dedication one may probably guess at the Work, saving some rare and peculiar exceptions. Thus when once a Gentleman admired how so pithy, learned, and witty a dedication was matched to a flat, dull, foolish book; In truth, said another, they may be well matched together, for I profess they are nothing a kin. 5 Proportion an hour's meditation to an hours reading of a staple author. This makes a man master of his learning, and dispirits the book into the Scholar. The King of Sweden never * Wards Animadver. of war sect. 17. lib. 2. cap. 5. filled his men above six deep in one company, because he would not have them lie in useless clusters in his Army, but so that every particular soldier might be drawn out into service. Books that stand thin on the shelves, yet so as the owner of them can bring forth every one of them into use, are better than fare greater libraries. 6 Learning hath gained most by those books by which the Printers have lost. Arius Montanus in printing the Hebrew Bible (commonly called the Bible of the King of Spain) much wasted himself, and was accused in the Court of Rome for his good deed, and being cited thither, * Thuanus' obit. vir. Doct. Anno 1598. Pro tantorum laborum praemio vix veniam impetravit. Likewise Christopher Plantin by printing of his curious interlineary Bible in Anwerp, through the unseasonable * Idem in eodem oper. Anno 1589. exactions of the King's Officers, sunk and almost ruined his estate. And our worthy English Knight, who set forth the golden-mouthed Father in a silver print, was a loser by it. 7 Whereas foolish Pamphlets prove most beneificall to the Printers. When a French Printer complained that he was utterly undone by Printing a solid serious book of Rabelais concerning physic, Rabelais to make him recompense made that his jesting scurrilous Work which repaired the Printers loss with advantage. Such books the world swarms too much with. When one had set out a witless Pamphlet, writing Finis at the end thereof, another wittily wrote beneath it, — Nay there thou liest, my friend, In writing foolish books there is no end. And surely such scurrilous scandalous papers do more than conceivable mischief. First their lusciousnesse puts many palates out of taste, that they can never after relish any solid and wholesome Writers: secondly, they cast dirt on the faces of many innocent persons, which dried on by continuance of time can never after be washed off: thirdly, the Pamphlets of this age may pass for Records with the next (because publicly uncontrolled) and what we laugh at, our children may believe: fourthly, grant the things true they jeer at, yet this music is unlawful in any Christian Church, to play upon the sins and miseries of others, the fit object of the Elegies than the Satyrs of all truly religious. But what do I speaking against multiplicity of books in this age, who trespass in this nature myself? What was a * Erasmus in praefat. in 3. s●riem 4. Tomi Hieron. pag. 408. learned man's compliment may serve for my confession and conclusion, Multi mei similes hoc morbo laborant, ut cum scribere nesciant tamen à scribendo temperare non possint. CHAP. 19 Of Time-serving. THere be four kinds of Time-serving: first, out of Christian discretion, which is commendable; second, out of humane infirmity, which is more pardonable; third, and fourth, out of ignorance, or affection, both which are damnable: of them in order. Maxim 1 He is a good timeserver that complyes his manners to the several ages of this life: pleasant in youth, without wantonness; grave in old age without frowardness. Frost is as proper for winter, as flowers for spring. Gravity becomes the ancient; and a green Christmas is neither handsome nor healthful. 2 He is a good timeserver that finds out the fittest opportunity for every action. God hath made a time for every thing under the sun, save only for that, which we do at all times, to wit Sinne. 3 He is good timeserver that improves the present for God's glory, and his own salvation. Of all the extent of time. Only the instant is that which we can call ours. 4 He is a good timeserver that is pliant to the times in matters of mere indifferency. Too blame are they whose minds may seem to be made of one entire bone without any joints: they cannot bend at all, but stand as stiffly in things of pure indifferency, as in matters of absolute necessity. 5 He is a good timeserver that in time of persecution neither betrays God's cause, nor his own safety. And this he may do, 1 By lying hid both in his person and practice: though he will do no evil he will forbear the public doing of some good. He hath as good cheer in his heart, though he keeps not open house, and will not publicly broach his Religion, till the palate of the times be better in taste to relish it. The * Annos. 5. v. 13. Prudent shall keep silence in that time, for it is an evil time. Though according to S. Peter's command we are to give a * 1. Pet. 3.15. reason of our hope to every one that asketh; namely, that asketh for his instruction, but not for our destruction, especially if wanting lawful Authority to examine us. * Matth. 10.18. Ye shall be brought saith Christ (no need have they therefore to run) before Princes for my sake. 2 By flying away: if there be no absolute necessity of his staying, no scandal given by his flight; if he wants strength to stay it out till death; and lastly, if God openeth a fair way for his departure: otherwise, if God bolts the doors and windows against him, he is not to creep out at the top of the chimney, and to make his escape by unwarrantable courses. If all should fly, Truth would want champions for the present; if none should fly, Truth might want champions for the future. We come now to Time-servers out of infirmity. Heart of oak hath sometimes warped a little in the scorching heat of persecution. 6 Their want of true courage herein cannot be excused. Yet many censure them for surrendering up their forts after a long siege, who would have yielded up their own at the first summons. Oh, there is more required to make one valiant, then to call Cranmer or Jewell Coward, as if the fire in Smithfield had been no hotter, than what is painted in the Book of Martyrs. Yet afterwards they have come into their former straightness & stiffness. 7 The troops which at first rather wheeled about then ran away have come in seasonable at last. Yea their constant blushing for shame of their former cowardliness hath made their souls ever after look more modest and beautiful. Thus Cranmer (who subscribed to Popery) grew valiant afterwards, and thrust his right hand which subscribed first into fire, so that that hand died (as it were) a malefactor and all the rest of his body died a martyr. 8 Some have served the times out of mere Ignorance. Gaping for company, as others gaped before them, Pater noster, or, Our Father. I could both sigh and smile at the witty▪ simplicity of a poor old woman who had lived in the days of Queen Marie, and Queen Elizabeth, and said her prayers daily both in Latin and English, and Let God, said she, take to himself which he likes best. 9 But worst are those who serve the times out of mere Affectation. Doing as the times do, not because the times do as they should do, but merely for sinister respects, to ingratiate themselves. We read of an Earl of * Lord Bacon in Henry seventh, p. 211. Oxford fined by King Henry the seventh fifteen thousand marks for having too many Retainers. But how many Retainers hath Time had in all ages? and Servants in all offices? yea and Chaplains too? 10 It is a very difficult thing to serve the times; they change so frequently, so suddenly, and sometimes so violently from one extreme to another. The times under Dioclesian were Pagan; under Constantine, Christian; under Constantius, Arian; under Julian, Apostate; under Jovian, Christian again, and all within the age of man, the term of seventy years. And would it not have wrenched and sprained his soul with short turning, who in all these should have been of the Religion for the time being? 11 Time-servers are oftentimes left in the lurch. If they do not only give their word for the times in their constant discourses, but also give their bands for them, and write in their defence. Such, when the times turn afterwards to another extreme, are left in the briers, and come off very hardly from the bill of their hands; If they turn again with the times none will trust them; for who will make a staff of an osier? 12 Miserable will be the condition of such Time-servers when their Master is taken from them. When as the Angel swore Rev. 10.6. that Time shall be no longer. Therefore is it best serving of him who is eternity, a Master that can ever protect us. To conclude, he that intends to meet with one in a great Fair, and knows not where he is, may sooner find him by standing still in some principal place there, then by traversing it up and down. Take thy stand on some good ground in Religion, and keep thy station in a fixed posture, never hunting after the times to follow them, and an hundred to one, they will come to thee once in thy life-time. CHAP. 20. Of Moderation. MOderation is * Bishop Hall of Christian Moderation, pag. 6. the silken string running through the pearl-chain of all virtues. It appears both in Practice, and Judgement: we will insist on the latter, and describe it first negatively: Moderation is not an halting betwixt two opinions, Maxim 1 when the through-believing of one of them is necessary to salvation: no pity is to be shown to such voluntary cripples. We read (Acts 27.12.) of an Haven in Crete which lay towards the South-West, and towards the North-West: strange, that it could have part of two opposite points, North and South, sure, it must be very winding. And thus some men's souls are in such intricate postures, they lay towards the Papists, and towards the Protestants; such we count not of a moderate judgement, but of an immoderate unsettledness. Nor is it a lukewarmness in those things wherein God's glory is concerned. 2 Herein it's a true Rule, * Augustin. contra Adamant. cap. 13. Non amat qui non zelat. And they that are thus lukewarm here shall be too hot hereafter in that oven wherein Dough-baked cakes shall be burnt. But it is a mixture of discretion and charity in ones judgement. 3 Discretion puts a difference betwixt things absolutely necessary to salvation to be done and believed, and those which are of a second sort and lower form, wherein more liberty and latitude is allowed. In maintaining whereof, the stiffness of the judgement is abated, and suppled with charity towards his neighbour. The lukewarm man eyes only his own ends, and particular profit; the moderate man aims at the good of others, and unity of the Church. 4 Yet such moderate men are commonly crushed betwixt the extreme parties on both sides. But what said Ignatius? * Irenaeus lib. 5. I am Christ's wheat, and must be ground with the teeth of beasts, that I may be made Gods pure manchet. Saints are born to suffer, and must take it patiently. Besides, in this world generally they get the least preferment; it faring with them as with the guest that sat in the midst of the table, who could reach to neither mess, above or beneath him: Esuriunt Medii, Fines bene sunt saturati; Dixerunt stulti, Medium tenuere beati. Both ends o'th' table furnished are with meat, Whilst they in middle nothing have to eat. They were none of the wisest well I witted, Who made bliss in the middle to consist. Yet these temporal inconveniences of moderation are abundantly recompensed with other better benefits: for 1 A well informed judgement in itself is a preferment. Potamon began a sect of Philosophers called * Diog. Laert in fine Prooemii. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, who wholly adhered to no former sect, but chose out of all of them what they thought best. Surely such Divines, who in unimporting controversies extract the probablest opinions from all Professions, are best at ease in their minds. 2 As the moderate man's temporal hopes are not great so his fears are the less. He fears not to have the splinters of his party (when it breaks) fly into his eyes, or to be buried under the ruins of his side if suppressed. He never pinned his religion on any man's sleeve, no, not on the arm of flesh, and therefore is free from all dangerous engagements. 3 His conscience is clear from raising schisms in the Church. The Turks did use to wonder much at our English men for * Bidulph. in his travel to Jerusalem, pag. 98. pinking or cutting their clothes, counting them little better than mad for their pains to make holes in whole cloth, which time of itself would tear too soon. But grant men may do with their own garments, as their fancy adviseth them: yet woe be to such who willingly cut and rend the seamlesse Coat of Christ with dissensions. 4 His religion is more constant and durable; being here, in via, in his way to Heaven, and jogging on a good traveller's pace he overtakes and outgoes many violent men, whose overhot ill-grounded Zeal was quickly tired. 5 In matters of moment indeed none are more Zealous. He thriftily treasured up his spirits for that time, who if he had formerly rend his lungs for every trifle, he would have wanted breath in points of importance. 6 Once in an age the moderate man is in fashion, Each extreme courts him, to make them friends; and surely he hath a great advantage to be a peacemaker betwixt opposite parties. Now whilst, as we have said, moderate men are constant to themselves, Violent men reel from one extremity to another. Who would think that the East and West Indies were so near together, whose names speak them at diametrical opposition? And yet their extremities are either the same Continent, or parted with a very narrow Sea. As the world is round, so we may observe a circulation in opinions, and Violent men turn often round in their tenets. 6 Pride is the greatest enemy to Moderation. This makes men stickle for their opinions, to make them fundamental: Proud men having deeply studied some additional point in Divinity, will strive to make the same necessary to salvation, to enhanse the value of their own worth and pains; and it must be fundamental in religion, because it is fundamental to their reputation. Yea as love doth descend, and men dote most on their grandchilds, so these are indulgent to the deductions of their deductions, and consequential inferences to the seventh generation, making them all of the foundation, though scarce of the building of religion. * Irenaeus cap. 2.3. Tertull. de virgin. velan. Hilarius ad Constant. August. Taur. Maxim. Serm. de symbolo. August. Serm. 2. & 1081. De Tempore. Ancient Fathers made the Creed symbolum, the shot and total sum of Faith. Since which how many arrearages, and after-reckoning have men brought us in? to which if we will not pay our belief, our souls must be arrested without bail upon pain of damnation. Next to Pride popular Applause is the greatest foe Moderation hath, and sure they who sail with that wind have their own vain glory for their Haven. To close up all, Let men on God's blessing sound, yet wisely, whip and lash lukewarmness and Time-serving, their thongs will never fly in the face of true Moderation, to do it any harm; for however men may undervalue it, that * Ambros. de poeniten. contra Novat. lib. 1. cap. 1 Father spoke most truly, Si virtutum finis ille sit maximus, qui plurimorum spectat profectum, Moderatio prope omnium pulcherrima est. CHAP. 21. Of Gravity. GRavity is the ballast of the soul, which keeps the mind steady. It is either true, or counterfeit. Natural dulness, Maxim 1 and heaviness of temper, is sometimes mistaken for true Gravity. In such men in whose constitutions one of the tetrarch Elements fire may seem to be omitted. These sometimes not only cover their defects, but get praise: Saepe latet vitium proximitate boni. They do wisely to counterfeit a reservedness, and to keep their chests always locked, not for fear any should steal treasure thence, but lest some should look in, and see that there is nothing within them. But they who are born eunuches deserve no such great commendation for their chastity. Wonder not so much that such men are grave, but wonder at them if they be not grave. Affected Gravity passes often for that which is true: 2 I mean with dull eyes, for in itself nothing is more ridiculous. When one shall use the preface of a mile, to bring in a furlong of matter, set his face and speech in a frame, and to make men believe it is some precious liquor, their words come out drop by drop: Such men's visards do sometimes fall from them, not without the laughter of the beholders. One was called Gravity for his affected solemness, who afterwards being catched in a light prank was ever after to the day of his death called Gravity-levity. True Gravity expresseth itself in Gate, 3 Gesture, apparel, and Speech. Vox * Ambros. de offic. lib. 1. cap. 18. quaedam est animi, corporis motus. As for Speech, Gravity enjoins it, 1 Not to be over much. In * Prov 10 19 the multitude of words there wanteth not sin. For of necessity many of them must be idle, whose best commendation is that they are good for nothing. Besides, * Greg moral. l●b. 7. cap. 17. Dum otiosa verba cavere negligimus, ad noxia pervenimus. And great talkers discharge too thick to take always true aim; besides, it is odious in a company. A man full of words, who took himself to be a Grand wit, made his brag that he was the leader of the discourse in what company soever he came, and None, said he, dare speak in my presence, if I hold my peace. No wonder, answered one, for they are all struck dumb at the miracle of your silence. 2 To be wise and discreet, Colossians 4.6. Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt. Always, not only sometimes in the company of godly men. * Fox Martyrs, pag. 1079. Tindals being in the room hindered a juggler that he could not play his feats: (A saint's presence stops the devil's elbow-room to do his tricks) and so some wicked men are awed into good discourse, whilst pious people are present. But it must be always seasoned with salt, which is the primum vivens & ultimum moriens at a feast, first brought, and last taken away, and set in the midst as most necessary thereunto. With salt, that is with wisdom and discretion, non salibus, sed sale; nor yet with smarting jeers, like those whose discourse is fire-salt, speaking constant satyrs to the disgrace of others. 4 That may be done privately without breach of Gravity, which may not be done publicly. As when a father makes himself his child's rattle, sporting with him till the father hath devoured the wiseman in him. Equitans in arundine longa. In stead of stately steed, Riding upon a reed. Making play unto him, that one would think he killed his own discretion, to bring his child asleep. Such cases are no trespass on Gravity, and married men may claim their privilege, to be judged by their peers, and may herein appeal from the censuring verdict of bachelors. Nature in men is sometimes unjustly taxed for a trespass against Gravity. 5 Some have active spirits, yea their ordinary pace is a race. Others have so scornful a carriage, that he who seethe them once may think them to be all pride, whilst he that seethe them often knows them to have none. Others have perchance a misbeseeming garb in gesture which they cannot amend; that fork needing strong tines wherewith one must thrust away nature. A fourth sort are of a merry cheerful disposition; and God forbidden all such should be condemned for lightness. O let not any envious eye disinherit men of that which is their * Eccles 7.18. Portion in this life, comfortably to enjoy the blessings thereof. Yet Gravity must prune though not root out our mirth. Gracious deportment may sometimes unjustly be accused of lightness. 6 Had one seen David * 2. Sam 6.16. dancing before the Ark, * 1. Kings 18.42. Eliah in his praying-posture when he put his head betwixt his legs, perchance he might have condemned them of unfitting behaviour. Had he seen * John 20.14. Peter and John posting to Christ's grave, * Acts. 12.14 Rhodia running into the house, he would have thought they had left their Gravity behind them. But let none blame them for their speed until he knows what were their spurs, and what were the motives that urged them to make such haste. These their actions were the true conclusions, following from some inward premises in their own souls; and that may be a syllogism in grace, which appears a solecism in manners. In some person's Gravity is most necessary. 7 Viz. in Magistrates and Ministers. One * Scaliger de subtle. pag 18. Palevizine an Italian Gentleman, and kinsman to Scaliger, had in one night all his hair changed from black to grey. Such an alteration ought there to be in the heads of every one that enters into Holy Orders, or public Office, metamorphosed from all lightness to Gravity. 8 God alone is the giver of true Gravity. No man wants so much of any grace as he hath to spare; and a constant impression of God's omnipresence is an excellent way to fix men's souls. Bishop Andrews ever placed the picture of * Vid. in the funeral serm. on him, pag. 18. Mulcaster his Schoolmaster over the door of his study (whereas in all the rest of his house you should scarce see a picture) as to be his tutor and Supervisour. Let us constantly apprehend Gods being in presence, and this will fright us into stayed behaviour. CHAP. 22. Of Marriage. SOme men have too much decried Marriage, as if she the mother were scarce worthy to wait on Virginity her daughter, and as if it were an advancement for Marriage to be preferred before fornication, and praise enough for her to be adjudged lawful. Give this holy estate her due, and then we shall find, Maxim 1 Though bachelors be the strongest stakes, married men are the best binder's in the hedge of the Commonwealth. 'Tis the Policy of the Londoners when they send a ship into the Levant or Mediterranean sea, to make every mariner therein a merchant, each seaman adventuring somewhat of his own, which will make him more wary to avoid, and more valiant to undergo dangers. Thus married men, especially if having posterity, are the deeper sharers in that state wherein they live, which engageth their affections to the greater loyalty. 2 It is the worst clandestine marriage when God is not invited to it. Wherefore beforehand beg his gracious assistance. Marriage shall prove no lottery to thee, when the hand of providence chooseth for thee, who, if drawing a blank, can turn it into a prize by sanctifying a bad wife unto thee. Deceive not thyself by overexpecting happiness in the married estate. 3 Look not therein for contentment greater than God will give, or a creature in this world can receive, namely to be free from all inconveniences. Marriage is not like the hill Olympus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, wholly clear, without clouds; yea expect both wind and storms sometimes, which when blown over, the air is the clearer, and wholesomer for it. Make account of certain cares and troubles which will attend thee. Remember the nightingales which sing only some months in the spring, but commonly are silent when they have hatched their eggs, as if their mirth were turned into care for their young ones. Yet all the molestations of Marriage are abundantly recompensed with other comforts which God bestoweth on them, who make a wise choice of a wife, and observe the following rules. Let Grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. 4 For love which hath ends will have an end, whereas that which is founded in true virtue will always continue. Some hold it unhappy to be married with a diamond ring, perchance (if there be so much reason in their folly) because the diamond hinders the roundness of the ring, ending the infiniteness thereof, and seems to presage some termination in their love, which ought ever to endure, and so it will, when it is founded in religion. Neither choose all, 5 nor not at all for Beauty. A cried-up Beauty makes more for her own praise then her husband's profit. They tell us of a floating island in Scotland: but sure no wise pilot will cast anchor there, lest the land swim away with his ship. So are they served (and justly enough) who only fasten their love on fading Beauty, and both fail together. 6 Let there be no great disproportion in age. They that marry ancient people merely in expectation to bury them, hang themselves in hope that one will come and cut the halter. Nor is God's ordinance but man's abusing thereof taxed in this homely expression, used by the Apostle himself. If Virginity enforced above the party's power be * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 1. Cor. 7.35. termed by S. Paul 1. Cor. 7.35. a snare or halter, marriage is no better when against ones will, for private respects. 7 Let wealth in its due distance be regarded. There be two towns in the land of Liege called Bovins and Dinant, the inhabitants whereof bear almost an incredible hatred one to another, and yet notwithstanding their children usually marry together; and the * Phil. Com. lib. 2. cap. 1. reason is, because there is none other good town, or wealthy place near them. Thus parents for a little pelf often marry their children to those whose persons they hate; and thus union betwixt families is not made, but the breach rather widened the more. This shall serve for a Conclusion. A bachelor was saying, Next to no wife, a good wife is best. Nay, said a Gentlewoman, next to a good wife, no wife is the best. I wish to all married people the outward happiness which * Thuan. de obit. vir doct. in eod. Anno. pag. 385. Anno 1605 happened to a couple in the city of Delft in Holland, living most lovingly together seventy five years in wedlock, till the man being one hundred and three, the woman ninety nine years of age, died within three hours each of other, and were buried in the same grave. CHAP. 23. Of Fame. FAme is the echo of actions, resounding them to the world, save that the echo repeats only the last part, but Fame relates all and often more than all. Fame sometimes hath created something of nothing. Maxim 1 She hath made whole countries more than ever Nature did, especially near the Poles, and then hath peopled them likewise with inhabitants of her own invention, Pigmies, Giants, and Amazons: Yea Fame is sometimes like unto a kind of mushroom, which * In miraculi● vel max●mum est 〈…〉 & vivere sine ulla ●adice, Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 19 cap. 2. Pliny recounts to be the greatest miracle in nature, because growing and having no root, as Fame no ground of her reports. Fame often makes a great deal of a little. 2 Absalon killed one of David's sons, and * 2. Sam. 13.30. Fame killed all the rest; and generally she magnifies and multiplies matters. Loud was that lie which that bell told hanging in a clockhouse at Westminster, and usually rung at the Coronation and funerals of Princes, having this inscription about it, King Edward made me thirty thousand and three, Take me down and weigh me and more shall you find me. But when this bell was taken down at the doomsday of Abbeys, this and two more were found not to weigh * Stows survey of London, pag. 528. twenty thousand. Many relations of Fame are found to shrink accordingly. Some Fames are most difficult to trace home to their form: 3 and those who have sought to tract them, have gone rather in a circle then forward, and oftentimes through the doubling of reports have returned back again where they began. Fame being a bastard or filia populi, 'tis very hard to find her father, and ofttimes she hath rather all then any for her first authors. 4 Politicians sometimes raise Fames on purpose. As that such things are done already, which they mean to do afterwards. By the light of those false fires they see into men's hearts, and these false rumours are true scouts to discover men's dispositions. Besides, the deed (though strange in itself) is done afterwards with the less noise, men having vented their wonder beforehand, and the strangeness of the action is abated, because formerly made stolen in report. But if the rumour startles men extremely, and draws with it dangerous consequences, than they can presently confute it, let their intentions fall and prosecute it no further. 5 The papal side of all Fame-merchants drive the most gainful trade, as that worthy * S. Edward Sandys view of the West Religions, pag. 100 Knight hath given us an exact survey thereof. But long before them, strange was that plot of Stratocles, who gave it out that he had gotten a victory, and the constant report thereof continued three days, and then was confuted; and Stratocles being charged with abusing his people with a lie, Why (said * Plutarch's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. he) are ye angry with me for making you pass three days in mirth and jollity more than otherwise you should? 6 Incredible is the swiftness of Fame in carrying reports. First she creeps thorough a village, than she goes thorough a town, than she runs thorough a city, than she flies thorough a country, still the farther the faster. Yea Christ who made the dumb speak, made not tell-tale Fame silent, though charging those he cured to hold their peace, * Luke 5.15. but so much the more went there a Fame abroad of him. Yea some things have been reported soon as ever they were done at impossible distance. The overthrow of Perseus was brought out of Macedon to Rome in * Livy. lib. 45. juxta princip. four days. And in Domitian's time a report was brought two thousand five hundred miles in one day. In which accidents, 1 Fame takes post on some other advantage. Thus the overthrow of the Sabines was known at Rome prius pene quam nunciari possit, by the means of the * Livy. lib. 1. arms of the Sabines drowned in the river of Tiber, and carried down by the tide to Rome. And thus Anno * Famian. Strada de Bello Belgic. l●b. 5. pag. 456. 1568 the overthrow which the Spaniards gave the Dutch at the river of Ems was known at Grunning before any horseman could reach thither, by the multitude of the Dutch caps which the river brought down into the city. But these conveyances are but slugs to make such miraculous speed: wherefore sometimes reports are carried, 2 By the ministration of Spirits. The devils are well at leisure to play such pranks, and may do it in a frolic. And yet they would scarce be the carriers except they were well paid for the portage, getting some profit thereby (doing of mischief is all the profit they are capable of) and do harm to some by the suddenness of those reports. Or else 3 The Fame is antedated and raised before the fact, being related at guess before 'twas acted. Thus some have been causlessely commended for early rising in the morning, who indeed came to their journey's end over night. If such foremade reports prove true, they are admired and registered; if false, neglected and forgotten: as those only which escaped shipwreck hung up votivas tabulas, tablets with their names in those Haven-towns where they came ashore. But as for those who are drowned, their memorials are drowned with them. General reports are seldom false. 7 Vox populi vox Dei. A body of that greatness hath an eye of like clearness, and it is impossible that a wanderer with a counterfeit pass should pass undiscovered. A fond Fame is best confuted by neglecting it. 8 By Fond understand such a report as is rather ridiculous then dangerous if believed. It is not worth the making a schism betwixt News-mongers to set up an antifame against it. Yea seriously and studiously to endeavour to confute it, will grace the rumour too much, and give suspicion that indeed there is some reality in it. What madness were it to plant a piece of ordinance to beat down an aspen leaf, which having always the palsy, will at last fall down of itself. And Fame hath much of the scold in her; the best way to silence her is to be silent, and then at last she will be out of breath with blowing her own trumpet. 9 Fame sometimes reports things less than they are. Pardon her for offending herein, she is guilty so seldom. For one kingdom of Scotland, which (they say) Geographers describe an hundred miles too short, most Northern countries are made too large. Fame generally overdoes, underdoes but in some particulars. The Italian proverb hath it, There is less honesty, wisdom, and money in men then is counted on: yet sometimes a close churl, who locks his coffers so fast Fame could never peep into them, dyeth richer than he was reported when alive. None could come near to feel his estate; it might therefore cut fatter in his purse, than was expected. But Fame falls most short in those Transcendents, which are above her Predicaments; as in * 1 Kings. 10.7. Solomon's wisdom: And behold one half was not told me: thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the Fame that I heard. But chief in fore-reporting the happiness in heaven, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive. CHAP. 24. Of the Antiquity of Churches and Necessity of them. WE will consider their Antiquity amongst the Jews, Heathen, and Christians. Now Temples amongst the Jews were more or less ancient as the acception of the word is straighter or larger. Take Temple for a covered standing structure, Maxim 1 and the Jews had none till the time of Solomon, which was from the beginning of the * V●d. Chron. H●l●●●i. world about two thousand nine hundred thirty two years: till than they had neither leave nor liberty to build a Temple. For the patriarches, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, lived in Pilgrimage; their posterity in Egypt in persecution; their children in the wilderness in constant travelling; their successors in Canaan in continual warfare, till the days of Solomon. Take Templum for tectum * Isidori●s lib. 15. cap 14. amplum, 2 a large place covered to serve God therein, and the Tabernacle was a movable Temple, built by Moses in the wilderness about the year of the world two thousand four hundred fifty five. Yea we find God's Spirit styling this Tabernacle a Temple, 1. Sam. 1.9. Ely the Priest sat upon a seat by a pillar of the Temple. 1. Sam. 3.3. Before the lamp of the Lord went out in the Temple. Such a portable Church Constantine * Socrates lib. 1. cap. 14. & S●zomen. lib. 1. cap. 8. had carried about with him when he went to war. God's children had places with Altars to serve God in before they had any Temples. 3 Such Altars seem as ancient as Sacrifices, both which are twins; and in Relatives find one and find both. Indeed the first Altar we read of in Scripture is that which Noah built after the Flood: But hear what a * 〈…〉. in G●nes. pag. 2●●. Learned man saith thereof, Non tamen existimandum toto illo tempore, quo ante diluvium pii homines Deo sacrificarunt Altarium usum fuisse incognitum. Potius id credendum, Noachum secutum fuisse exemplum eorum, qui eum praecesserant, imo morem inolitum. 4 The Jews besides the Temple had many other Synagogues, serving instead of Chappells of ease to the mother Church at Jerusalem. In the new Testament (the Temple yet standing) 'tis plain that Christ often graced such Synagogues with his presence and preaching; and 'tis * H●spinian de orig. Temp c. 4. probable they were in use ever since Josuahs' time, when the land was first inhabited with Israelites, and that the Levites dispersed all over the land did teach the people therein: Otherwise Palestine was a great Parish, and some therein had an hundred miles to Church; besides, people's souls were poorly fed having but three meals in a year, being but thrice to appear at Jerusalem. 5 Many Heathen Temples were ancienter than that of solomon's. Amongst which Pagan Temples there is much justling for precedency, though some think that of Apis in Egypt shows the best evidence for her seniority, wherein was worshipped an ox, of whose herd (not to say breed) was the Calf which the Israelites worshipped in the wilderness, being made in imitation thereof. But the Heathen had this gross conceit that their Gods were affixed to their Statues, as their Statues were confined in their Temples: So that in effect they did not so much build Temples for their Gods, as thereby lay Nets to catch them in, inviting them thither as into a palace, and then keeping them there as in a Prison. 6 Most civilised Heathen Nations had Temples for their Gods. I say, Most, for the Persians are said to have none at all. Perchance it was because they chief worshipped the sun, and then according to the general opinion of fixing Deities to their Temples, it was in vain to erect any structure therein to restrain and keep his Ubiquitary beams. And yet that the Persians were wholly Temple-lesse will hardly be believed, seeing the Assyrians on this side ( * 2 Kings 19.37. Senacherib was killed worshipping in the house of Nisroch his God) and the Indians on the other side of them had their Temples erected, as some will have it, by Bacchus their Dionysius: yea we find a Temple in Persia dedicated to * 2. Maccabees 1.13. vide ●tiam. 1. Maccab. 6.2. Nanea in the time of Antiochus, and though it may be pretended that the influence of the Grecian Empire on the Persians had then spiced them with a smack of Grecisme, yet Nanea will scarce be proved any Grecian Deity: not to say any thing of the Temple of Bell. civilised: for as for the Scythian wand'ring Nomades, Temples sorted not with their condition, as wanting both civility and settledness: and who can expect Churches from them, who had no houses for themselves? Lastly I say, Nation: for the Stoics only, a conceited sect, forbade any building of Temples, either out of derision of the common conceit that Deities were kept in durance in their Temples; or else out of humour, because they counted the general practice of other men a just ground for their contrary opinion. And now we come to the Antiquity of Christian Churches, and crave leave of the Reader, that we may for a while dissolve our continued discourse into a dialogue. A. I am much perplexed to find the beginning of Christian Churches in the Scripture. There I find the Saints meeting in the house of marry the mother of Mark; in the School of Tyrannus; in an upper Chamber; but can see no foundation of a Church, I mean of a place and structure separated and set apart solely for Divine Service. B. That the Saints had afterwards Churches in your sense is plain: 1. Cor. 11.22. Have ye not Houses to eat and drink in, or despise ye the Church of God, and shame them that have not? Here the opposition is a good exposition of the Apostles meaning, and the Antithesis betwixt Houses and Church speaks them both to be local; so that S. Paul thought their material Church despised, that is abused and unreverenced, by their lay-meetings of Love-feasts therein. A. By your favour, Sr, the Apostle by Church meaneth there the assembly or society of God's servants, as appears by what followeth, or despise ye the Church of God, and shame them that have not? Them, and not that, not speaking of the Place but Persons: The latter words of the Apostle comment on the former, showing how to shame those who had not (that is, to neglect and upbraid the poor) is to despise the Church of God. B. Pardon me Sr: for the Apostle therein accuseth the Corinthians of a second fault. Imprimis he chargeth them for despising Gods material Church; Item, for shaming their poor brethren in their Love-feasts. The particle And showeth the addition of a new charge, but not expounding or amplifying of the former. But, Sr, suspending our judgements herein, let us descend to the Primitive times before Constantine, we shall there find Churches without any contradiction. A. Not so neither: Herein also the trumpet of Antiquity giveth a very uncertain sound: Indeed we have but little left of the story of those times wherein Christian books were as much persecuted as men, and but a few Counfessour-records escaping martyrdom are come to our hands. Yea God may seem to have permitted the suppression of primitive History, lest men should be too studious in reading, and observant in practising the customs of that age, even to the neglecting and undervaluing of his written Word. B. Yet how slenderly soever those Primitive times are storied, there is enough in them to prove the Antiquity of Churches. I will not instance on the decrees of Evaristus, Hyginus, and other Popes in the first three hundred years about the consecrating of Churches, because their authority is suspected as antedated; and none are bound to believe that the Gibeonites came from so far a country as their mouldy bread & clouted shoes did pretend. Churches are plainly to be found in Tertullian, two hundred years after Christ; and Eusebius * Hist. Eccles. lib. 8. c. 1, & 2. witnesseth that before the time of Dioclesian the Christians had Churches, which the Tyrant caused to be destroyed. A. But * Origen. lib. 4. contra ●e●●um, Objicit nobis Cel●us quod non habea●●us Imagines aut Aras au● Templa. Idem lib. 8. contra Celsum, Celsus & Aras & Simulac●a & Delubra a●t ●os diffugere quo minùs fundentur. Arnobius lib. 4 Contra Gen. Accusatis nos quòd nec Templa habeamus, nec I●agines nec Aras. Minut. ●elix pag. 73. Putatis autem nos occultate quod ●olamus si Delubra et Aras non habemus. Lactantius, Quid sibi Templa, quid Arae volunt, quid denique ipsa Simulacra, etc. Origen, Minutius Felix, Arnobius, and Lactantius, being pressed by the Heathen that Christians had no Churches, answered by way of confession, yielding that they had none. This is the difficulty perplexeth me. It was a bloody speech of Abner, Let the young men rise up and play before us: But worse is their cruelty who make sport at the falling out of the old men, when the reverend brows of Antiquity knock one against another, and Fathers thus extremely differ in matters of fact. B. Why, Sr? A charitable distinction may reconcile them: if by Churches, stately magnificent fabrics be meant, in that acception the Christians had no Churches; but small Oratories and Prayer-places they then had, though little, low and dark, being so fearful of persecution they were jealous the Sunne-beams should behold them: and indeed stately Churches had but given a fairer aim to their enemy's malice to hit them. Such an homely place learned Sr Henry Spelman * De Conciliis Briton. pag. 11. presents us with, which was first founded at Glastenbury, thatched and wattled: And let not our Churches now grown men look with a scornful eye on their own picture, when babes in their swaddling clothes. And no wonder if God's House Erubuit domino cultior esse suo, The Church did blush more glory for to have Then had her Lord. He begged, should she be brave? Christ himself being then cold, and hungry, and naked in his afflicted members. Such a mean Oratory Tertullian calls * Adversus Gentes, cap. 3.9. Triclimum Christianorum, the Parlour or Three-bed-room of the Christians. A. But it seems not to consist with Christian ingenuity for the forenamed Fathers absolutely to deny their having of Churches, because they had only poor ones. B. Take then another Answer, namely in denying they had no Temples, they meant it in the same notion wherein they were interrogated, to wit, they had no Temples like the Pagans for Heathen Gods, no claustra Numinum, wherein the Deity they served was imprisoned. Or may we not say that in that age the Christians had no Churches generally, though they might have them in some places? the elevation of their happiness being varied according to several climates: And Christendom then being of so large an extent, it might be stormy with persecution in one country, and fair weather in another. We come now to the Necessity. 7 There is no absolute necessity that Christians should have Churches. No necessity at all in respect of God, no absolute necessity in respect of men, when persecution hinders the erecting of them: In such a case any place is made a Church for the time being, as any private house where the King and his Retinue meet is presently made the Court. Christians have no direct precept to build Churches under the Gospel. 8 I say direct: For the Law of God, which commands a public Sanctification of a Sabbath, must needs, by * Ut 〈…〉 fid●l●●us pr●●●● D●●s verbo ●uo 〈…〉 sic & Te●pla publica ipsis p●●agendis destinata este oporowo, Cal●in. instit. lib. 3. cap. 20. num. 30. way of necessary consequence, imply a set, known, and public Place. Besides, God's command to Moses and Solomon to build a Temple in a manner obligeth us to build Churches. In which command observe the body and the soul thereof. The body thereof was ceremonial and mortal, yea died, and is buried in our saviour's grave: The soul thereof is moral and eternal, as founded in Nature, and is always to endure. Thus S. Paul finds a constant bank for minister's Maintenance locked up in a ceremonial Law, Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the Ox that treadeth out the corn. The Apostle on the Morality couched therein founded the Charter of endowment for Ministers in the Gospel. Besides, God hath left a warrant dormant with his Church, Let all things be done decently and in order. And this ties Christians to the building of Churches for their public Assemblies, whereby not only Decency but Piety is so much advanced, especially in these three respects: 1 Hereby the same meat serves to feed many guests, one pastor instructing many people in the same place. 2 Devotion is increased with company. Their praises are the louder; and music is sweetest in a full consort: their prayers are the stronger, besetting God as it were in a round, and not suffering him to departed till he hath blessed them. * Tertull. Apol. Haec vis grata deo. 3 The very Place itself, being dedicated to God's service, is a Monitour to them Hoc agere, & stirs up pious thoughts in them. Say not, it is but lame Devotion that cannot mount without the help of such a wooden stock; rather 'tis lame indeed which is not raised though having the advantage thereof. 9 Those that may, must frequent the public Churches. Such as nowadays are ambitious of conventicles are deeply guilty: for as it had been desperate madness in time of persecution publicly to resort to Divine Service, so it is no less unthankfulness to God now to serve him in woods and holes, not taking notice of the liberty of the Gospel, which he graciously hath vouchsafed; yea such people in effect deny the King to be Defender of the Faith, but make him a Persecuter rather, in that they dare not avouch the truth in the face of his Authority. If it be good they do (thanks be to God) it may be done any where; if bad, it must be done no where. Besides, by their voluntary private meetings, they give occasions to many to suspect their actions there: And grant them unjustly traduced for their behaviour therein, yet can they not justly be excused, because they invite slanderous tongues to censure them, in not providing for honest things in the sight of men, and clearing God's service as well from the suspicion as from the guilt of any dishonesty. We should now come to speak of the holiness, Reverence, Decency, and magnificency of Churches: But herein I had rather hear the judgements of other men. Let it serve instead of a conclusion to observe that Solomon's Temple was the statelyest structure that ever was or shall be in the world; built by the wealthyest, contrived by the wisest King in seven years (now counted the life of a man) by an army of Workmen, no fewer than * 1. Kings 5.15, 16. one hundred forty three thousand three hundred, of the soundest timber, most precious stones, most proper metal, as the nature of the things required; either the strongest, brass; or the richest, Gold: In a word, Earth gave it most costly matter, and Heaven itself most curious workmanship, God directing them. And though Solomon had no mines of Gold and Silver in his own land, yet had he the spoils and gifts of the neighbouring nations, and once in three years the golden land of Ophir came swimming to Jerusalem. God being the Landlord of the earth, Solomon was then his Receiver, to whom the World paid in her rent, to build his Temple. And was not he a most wealthy King, in whose days silver was nothing accounted of; seeing in our days the commander of both Indieses hath so much brass coin currant in his Court? As for Josephus his conceit, that the second edition of the Temple by Zorobabel, as it was new forrelled and filleted with gold by Herod, was a statelier volume than that first of Solomon, it is too weak a surmise to have a confutation fastened to it. And yet we will not deny but the world hath seen greater buildings for the Piles and fabrics, as may appear by this parallel. 1 God's Temple, built at Jerusalem by Solomon. Long 60 cubits. a 2. Chron. 3.3. Broad 20 cubits. High 30 cubits. 2 Diana's Temple, built at Ephesus by the Kings of Asia. Long 425 foot. b Plin. nat. Hist. lib. 36. cap. 14. Broad 220 foot. High 60 foot. 3 Sepulchre Church, built on Mount Calvary by Constantine. Long c Eusebius lib. 3 de vit. Constantini, c. 24. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. We find no set dimension but hyperbolical expressions of it. Broad We find no set dimension but hyperbolical expressions of it. High We find no set dimension but hyperbolical expressions of it. 4 S. Sophia's Church, built at Constantinople by Justinian. Long 260 foot. d Ev●grius lib. 4. cap. 30. Broad 75 foot. High 180 foot. 5 S. Paul's Church, built at London by King Ethelbert. Long 690 foot. e Namely in the body of the Church besides the steeple, Cambd. Britt. in Middlesex. Broad 130 foot. High 102 foot. 6 Turkish Mosque, built at Fez. Long 150 Florentine Cubits. f The height we find not, but it is a mile and half in compass, Leo Africanus, lib. 3. pag. 126. Broad 80 Florentine Cubits. High Florentine Cubits. But when the Reader hath with his eyes surveyed these Temples, and findeth them to exceed solomon's, yet let him remember, first, that there is nothing more uncertain than the measures used in several countries; one countries' span may be another countries' cubit, ●● them. Not to relieve them, were not Christianity, and to relieve them, were worse than Infidelity, because therein they wrong their providing for their own family. Thus sometimes are they forced to be Nabals against their will; yet it greiveth them to send away the people empty. But what shall they do, seeing they cannot multiply their loaves and their fishes? Besides, clergymen are deeply rated to all payments. Oh that their profession were but as highly prized, as their estate is valued. 4 Because they are to provide for their Posterity, that after the death of their parents they may live, though not in an high, yet in an honest fashion, neither leaving them to the wide world, nor to a narrow cottage. 5 Because the Levites in the Old Testament had plentiful provision. Oh 'tis good to be God's Pensioner, for he giveth his large allowance. They had Cities and Suburbs (houses and glebeland) Tithes, Freewill-offerings, and their parts in First-fruits, and Sacrifices. Do the Ministers of the Gospel deserve worse wages for bringing better tidings? Besides, the Levites places were hereditary, and the son sure of his father's house and land without a Faculty ad succedendum patri. 6 Because the Papists in time of Popery gave their Priests plentiful means. Whose benefactors, so bountiful to them, may serve to condemn the covetousness of our age towards God's Ministers, in such who have more knowledge, and should have more religion. Ob. But the great means of the clergy in time of Popery was rather wrested then given. The Priests melted men's hearts into charity with the Scare-fire of Purgatory: And for justice now to give back what holy fraud had gotten away, is not sacrilege but Restitution. And when those grand and vast Donations were given to the Church, there was (as some say) a voice of Angels heard from heaven, saying, Hodie venenum in Ecclesiam Christi cecidit. Answ. If poison than fell into the Church, since hath there a strong antidote been given to expel it, especially in Impropriations. Distinguish we betwixt such Donations given to uses in themselves merely unlawful and superstitious, as Praying for the dead, and the like; and those which in Genere were given to God's Service, though in Specie some superstitious end were annexed thereto. And grant the former of these to be void in their very granting, yet the latter aught to be rectified and reduced to the true use, and in no case to be alienated from God. Plato saith that in his time it was a Proverb amongst Children, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Things that are truly given must not be taken away again. Sure, as our Saviour set a child in the midst of his Disciples to teach them humility, so nowadays a child need be set in the midst of some men to teach them justice. Excellently * In his Comment on the 47. of Genes. pag. 631. Luther, Nisi superesset spolium Aegypti, quod rapuimus Papae, omnibus Ministris Verbi fame pereundum esset; quod si sustentandi essent de contributione populi, misere profecto ac duriter viverent. Alimur ergo de spoliis Aegypti collectis sub Papatu, & hoc ipsum tamen quod reliquum est diripitur à Magistratu: spoliantur Parochiae & Scholae, non aliter ac si fame necare nos velint. Ob. But in the pure Primitive times the Means were least, and Ministers the best: And nowadays, does not wealth make them lazy, and poverty keep them painful? like Hawks they fly best when sharp. The best way to keep the stream of the clergy sweet and clear is to fence out the tide of wealth from coming unto them. Answ. Is this our thankfulness to the God of heaven, for turning persecution into peace, in pinching his poor Ministers? When the Commonwealth now makes a feast, shall neither Zadok the Priest, nor Nathan the Prophet, be invited to it? that so the footsteps of Primitive persecution may still remain in these peaceable times, amongst the Papists, in their needless burning of candles; and amongst the Protestants, in the poor means of their Ministers. And what if some turn the spurs unto Virtue into the stirrups of Pride, grow idle, and insolent? let them sound suffer for it themselves on God's blessing; but let not the bees be sterved that the drones may be punished. 7 Minister's Maintenance ought to be certain; lest some of them meet with Laban's for their Patrons and parishioners; changing their wages ten times; and at last, if the fear of God doth not fright them, send them away empty. 8 It is unequal that there should be an equality betwixt all minister's Maintenance. Except that first there were made an equality betwixt all their Parts, Pains, and Piety. Parity in means will quickly bring a level and flat in Learning; and few will strive to be such spiritual Musicians, to whom David directeth many Psalms, To him that excelleth, but will even content themselves with a canonical sufficiency, and desiring no more than what the Law requires: More learning would be of more pains, and the same profit, seeing the mediocriter goeth abreast with optime. Ob. But neither the best, nor the most painful and learned get the best preferment. Sometimes men of the least, get live of the best worth; yea such as are not worthy to be the curates to their curates, and crassa Ingenia go away with opima Sacerdotia. Answ. Thus it ever was, and will be. But is this dust only to be found in Churches, and not in civil Courts? Is merit everywhere else made the exact square of preferment? or did ever any urge, that all Offices should be made champain for their profits, none higher than other? such corruption will ever be in the Church, except there were a Law (ridiculous to be made, and impossible to be kept) that men should be no men, but that all Patrons or people in their Election or Presentations of Ministers should wholly divest themselves of by-respects of kindred, friendship, profit, affection, and merely choose for desert: and then should we have all things so well ordered, such pastors and such people, the Church in a manner would be Triumphant, whilst Militant. Till then, though the best live light not always on the ablest men, yet as long as there be such preferments in the Church, there are still encouragements for men to endeavour to excel, all hoping, and some happening on advancement. Ob. But Ministers ought to serve God merely for love of himself; and pity but his eyes were out that squints at his own ends in doing God's work. Answ. Then should Gods best Saints be blind; for Moses himself had an eye to the recompense of reward. Yea Ministers may look not only on their eternal but on their temporal reward, as motives to quicken their endeavours. And though it be true, that grave and pious men do study for learning sake, and embrace virtue for itself, yet it is as true that youth (which is the season when learning is gotten) is not without ambition, nor will ever take pains to excel in any thing, when there is not some hope of excelling others in reward and dignity. And what reason is it that whilst Law and physic bring great portions to such as marry them, Divinity their elder sister should only be put off with her own beauty? In after-ages men will rather bind their sons to one gainful, then to seven liberal Sciences: only the lowest of the people would be made Ministers, which cannot otherwise subsist; and it will be bad when God's Church is made a Sanctuary only for men of desperate estates to take refuge in it. However, let every Minister take up this resolution, To preach the word, to be instant in season, out of season, reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine. If thou hast competent means comfortably to subsist on, be the more thankful to God the fountain, to man the channel; painful in thy place, pitiful to the poor, cheerful in spending some, careful in keeping the rest. If not, yet tyre not for want of a spur: do something for love, and not all for money; for love of God, of goodness, of the godly, of a good conscience. Know it is better to want means, then to detain them; the one only suffers, the other deeply sins: and it is as dangerous a persecution to religion, to draw the fuel from it, as to cast water on it. Comfort thyself that another world will pay this world's debts, and great is thy reward with God in heaven. A reward, in respect of his promise; a gift, in respect of thy worthlessness: And yet the less thou lookest at it, the surer thou shalt find it, if labouring with thyself to serve God for himself, in respect of whom even heaven itself is but a sinister end. To the Reader. THese general Rules we have placed in the middle, that the Books on both sides may equally reach to them; because all Persons therein are indifferently concerned. The Holy State. THE FOURTH BOOK. CHAP. 1. The Favourite. A Favourite is a court-dial, whereon all look whilst the King shines on him, and none, when it is night with him. A Minion differs from a Favourite: for He acts things by his own will and appetite, as a Favourite by the judgement and pleasure of his Prince. These again are twofold: either such as rely wholly on their King's favour, or such as the King partly relies on their wisdom, loving them rather for use then affection. The former are like pretty wands in a Prince's hand, for him to play with at pleasure; the latter, like staves, whereon he leans and supports himself in State-affairs. God is the original Patron of all preferment, Maxim 1 all dignities being in his disposal. Promotion ( * Psal. 75.7. saith David) comes neither from the East, nor from the West, nor yet from the South. The word here translated South, in the Hebrew signifies the Desert; and such a course list bounded Palestine both on the South and * Tremelliu● on the verse. North, so that in effect preferment bloweth from no point of the compass. True, every man is, fortunae suae faber, the Smith to beat out his own fortunes; but God first doth give him coals, iron, and anvil before he can set up his trade. 2 The first inlet into a Prince's knowledge is half way into his favour. Indeed the heat of the sun pierceth into the innermost bowels of the earth, but only the surface thereof is guilded with his beams: So though the influence of the Prince's protection reacheth the utmost and obscurest man in his dominions, yet only some few, who lie on the top of the heap of his subjects, can be graced with his favour. He therefore that is known to his Prince, starts in the half way of his race to honour. A notable fellow, and a soldier to Alexander, finding this first admission to be the greatest difficulty, put feathers into his nose and ears, and danced about the Court in an antique fashion, till the strangeness of the show brought the King himself to be a spectator. Then this mimic throwing off his disguise, Sr (said he to the King) thus I first arrive at your majesty's notice in the fashion of a fool, but can do you service in the place of a wiseman, if you please to employ me. 3 'Tis the easier for them to leap into preferment, who have the rise of noble blood: such get their honour with more ease, and keep it with less envy, which is busiest in maligning of upstarts. Nor is it any hindrance unto him, but rather an advantage, if such a Nobleman be of an ancient family, decayed in estate through the fault of his ancestors; for such, Princes count the object as well of their pity as favour, and it an act as well of charity as bounty to relieve and raise them: But those are in some sort born Favourites, and succeed by descent to a Prince's affection (rather as a debt then a gift) whose parents have formerly suffered in the Princes or his predecessors behalf. This made Queen Elizabeth first reflect on the Lord Norris, (for in the peaceable beginning of her reign the martial spirits of his son were not yet raised) because his father died her mother's Martyr, to attest her innocence in the reign of King Henry the eighth. Several doors open to preferment, 4 but the King keeps the key of them all. Some have been advanced for their Faces, their Beauty; their Heads, their wisdom; their Tongues, their Eloquence; their Hands, their Valour; their blood, their Nobility; their Feet, their nimbleness, and comeliness in dancing; but all is ultimately resolved on the Prince's pleasure. Happy the Favourite that is raised without the ruin of another: 5 as those which succeed in a dead place, who draw less envy of competitors, in keeping others out of the King's favour, than those that cast one out of the possession thereof. Also he that climbeth up by degrees stands more firmly in favour, as making his footing good as he goes. Sometimes the Prince's favour is all the known worth in the Favourite. 6 I say, known: for he is an Infidel that believes not more than he sees, and that a rational Prince will love where he sees no loveliness. Surely Charles the ninth of France beheld some worth in Albertus Tudius (an Hucksters son, to whom in five years, besides other honours, he gave six hundred thousand crowns) though some affirm all the good the King got by him, was to learn to * Camerarius, med. Hist. cap. 4. swear by the Name of God. Except we will say, that Kings desire in some to show as the absoluteness of their power, to raise them from nothing, so of their will also, to advance them for nothing. But Princes have their grounds reared above the flats of common men, and who will search the reasons of their actions must stand on an equal basis with them. Some Kings to make a jest have advanced a man in earnest. 7 When amongst many Articles exhibited to King Henry the seventh by the Irish against the Earl of Kildare, the last was, * Camb. Rem. pag. 271. Finally, all Ireland cannot rule this Earl. Then (quoth the King) shall this Earl rule all Ireland; and made him deputy thereof. But such accidents are miraculous; and he shall starve that will not eat till such Manna is dropped into his mouth. 8 But by what lawful means soever he hath gotten his advancement, he standeth but in a slippery place; and therefore needs constantly to wear ice-spurres, for he rather glides than goes, and is in continual fear to be crushed from above by his Prince's anger, and undermined from beneath by his fellow-subjects envy. Against both which see how he fenceth himself. 9 He praiseth God for preferring him, and prayeth to him to preserve him. His greatness must needs fall which is not founded in goodness. First he serveth his God in heaven, and then his Master on earth. The best way to please all, or to displease them with least danger, is to please him who is all in all. 10 Next he studieth the alphabet of his Prince's disposition: whose inclination when found out is half fitted. Then he applies himself to please his natural, though not vicious, humours, never preferring himself before his Prince in any thing, wherein he desires or conceiveth himself to excel. Nero, though indeed but a fiddler, counted himself as well Emperor of music as of Rome; and his Followers too grossly did soothe him up in the admiration of his skill in that Art. But the most temperate Princes love to taste the sweetness of their own praises (if not overluscious with flattery) where their own deserts lay the groundwork, and their Favourites give the varnish to their commendations. 11 Bluntness of speech hath becomed some, and made them more acceptable: Yea this hath been counted Freeheartednesse, in Courtiers; Conscience and Christian simplicity, in Clergiemen; Valour, in soldiers. I love thee the better (said Queen Elizabeth to Archbishop Grindall) because you live unmarried. And I, Madam, (replied Grindall) because you live unmarried love you the worse. But those, who make music with so harsh an instrument, need have their bow well rosend before, and to observe Time and Place, lest that gall which would tickle at other times. He leaveth his Prince always with an appetite, 12 and never gluts him with his company. Sometimes taking occasion to departed, whilst still his staying might be welcome. Such intermissions render him more gracious; yet he absents himself neither fare, nor long, lest he might seem to neglect. Though he doth not always spur up close to the King's side (to be constantly in his presence) he never lagges so fare behind, as to be out of distance. Long absence hath drawn the curtain betwixt a Favourite and his sovereign, and thereby hath made room for others to step in betwixt them. He doth not boldly engross and limit his master's favour to himself. 13 He is willing his Prince should shine beside him, but especially thorough him, on others. Too covetous are they who, not content to be sole heirs to their Prince's favour, grudge that any pensions should be allotted to their younger brethren. Why should it not as well be Treason to confine a Prince's affection, as to imprison his person? He makes provident yet moderate use of his master's favour. 14 Especially if he be of a various nature, and loveth exchange, counting it not to stand with the state of a King to wear a Favourite threadbare. Too blame they, who thinking it will be continual summer with them (as in the country under the Aequator) will not so much as frostnip their souls with a cold thought of want hereafter, and provide neither to oblige others, nor to maintain themselves: As bad they on the other side, who like those who have a lease, without impeachment of waste, speedily to expire, whip and strip, and rap and rend, whatsoever can come to their fingers. He makes his estate invisible by purchasing reversions, 15 and in remote countries. He hath a moderate estate in open view, that the world may settle their looks on't (for if they see nothing they will suspect the more) and the rest fare off and hereafter. The eyes of envy can never bewitch that which it doth not see. These Reversions will be ripe for his heir, by that time his heir shall be ripe for them, and the money of distracted revenues will meet entirely in one purse. 16 Having attained to a competent height, he had rather grow a buttress broader, than a story higher. He fortifieth himself by raising outworks, and twisting himself by intermarriages of his kindred into noble Families: his Countenance will give all his Kinswomen beauty. Some Favourites, whose heels have been tripped up by their adversaries, have with their hands held on their Allies, till they could recover their feet again. 17 He makes not Great men dance envidious attendance to speak with him. Oh whilst their heels cool how do their hearts burn? Wherefore in the midst of the Term of his business he makes himself a vacation to speak with them. Indeed some difficulty of access and conference begets a reverence towards them in common people (who will suspect the ware not good if cheap to come by) and therefore he values himself in making them to wait: Yet he loves not to over-linger any in an afflicting hope, but speedily dispatcheth the fears or desires of his expecting Clients. 18 He loveth a good name, but will not woo or court it otherwise, then as it is an attendant on honesty and virtue. But chief he avoideth the sweet poison of Popularity, wherewith some have swollen till they have broken. Especially, he declines the entertainment of many Martialists, the harsh counsel of soldiers being commonly untunable to the Court-way. The immoderate resorting of military men to a Favourite (chief if by any palliation he pretends to the Crown) is like the flocking of so many ravens and vultures which foretell his funeral. 19 He preserves all inferior Officers in the full rights and privileges of their places. Some are so boisterous, no severals will hold them, but lay all Offices common to their power, or else are so busy, that making many circles in other men's professions, they raise up ill spirits in them, and for every finger they needlessely thrust into other men's matters, shall find an hand against them, when occasion shall serve. As bad are they, who leaping over meaner persons to whom the business is proper, bring it per saltum to themselves, not suffering matters to run along in a legal channel, but in a by-ditch of their own cutting, so drawing the profit to themselves, which they drain from others. If accused by his adversaries, 20 he flies with speed to his Prince's person. No better covert for a hunted Favourite to take to: where if innocent, with his loyal breath he easily dispels all vapours of ill suggestions; if guilty, yet he is half acquitted, because judged by the Prince himself, whose compassion he moves by an ingenuous confession. But if this Sanctuary-doore be bolted against him, than his ruin is portended, and not long after. He is a fish on the dry shore when the tide of his master's love hath left him; 21 so that if he be not the more wise, he will be made a prey to the next that finds him. Several are the causes of Favourites falls, proceeding either from the King's pleasure, their enemy's malice, or their own default: different the degrees and manner of their ruin: some when grown too great are shifted under honourable colours of employment into a foreign air, there to purge and lessen; others receive their condemnation at home. But how bad soever his cast be, see how he betters it by good playing it. He submits himself, 22 without contesting, to the pleasure of his Prince. For being a Tenant at will to the favour of his sovereign, it is vain to strive to keep violent possession when his Landlord will out him. Such struggling makes the hook of his enemy's malice strike the deeper into him. And whilst his adversaries spur him with injuries on purpose to make him spring out into rebellious practices, he reins in his passions with the stronger patience. 23 If he must down, he seeks to fall easily, and if possible, to light on his legs. If stripped out of his robes, he strives to keep his clothes; losing his honour, yet to hold his lands, if not them, his life; and thanks his Prince for giving him whatsoever he takes not away from him. To conclude, A Favourite is a trade, whereof he that breaks once seldom sets up again. Rare are the examples of those who have compounded and thrived well afterwards. Mean men are like underwood, which the Law calls sylva caedua, quae * Lynwood lib. 3. cap. Quanquam exsolventibus. succisa renascitur, being cut down it may spring again, but Favourites are like oaks, which scarce thrive after (to make timber) being lopped, but if once cut down never grow more. If we light on any who have flourished the second time, impute it to their Prince's pleasure to cross the common observation, and to show that nothing is past cure with so great a chirurgeon, who can even set a broken Favourite. Now to show the inconstancy of greatness not supported with virtue, we will first insist in a remarkable pattern in holy Scripture. Next will we produce a parallel of two Favourites in our English Court, living in the same time, and height of honour with their sovereign, the one through his viciousness ending in misery, the other by his virtuous demeanour shining bright to his death: for I count it a wrong to our country to import precedents out of foreign Histories, when our home-Chronicles afford us as plentiful and proper examples. CHAP. 2. The life of HAMAN. HAman the son of Amedatha, of the kindred of Agag, and people of Amalek, was highly favoured by Ahasuerus Emperor of Persia. I find not what precious properties he had, sure he was a pearl in the eye of Ahasuerus, who commanded all his subjects to do lowly reverence unto him: only Mordecai the Jew excepted himself from that rule, denying him the payment of so humble an observance. I fathom not the depth of Mordecai's refusal: perchance Haman interpreted this reverence farther than it was intended, as a divine honour, and therefore Mordecai would not blow wind into so empty a bladder, and be accessary to puff him up with self-conceit; or because Amalek was the devil's first-fruits, which first broke the peace with Israel, and God commanded an antipathy against them; or he had some private countermand from God not to reverence him. What ever it was, I had rather accuse myself of ignorance, than Mordecai of pride. Haman swells at this neglect. Will not his knees bow? his neck shall break with an halter. But oh, this was but poor and private revenge: one lark will not fill the belly of such a vulture. What if Mordecai will not stoop to Haman, must Haman stoop to Mordecai to be revenged of him alone? wherefore he plotteth with the King's sword to cut off the whole Nation of the Jews. Repairing to Ahasuerus, he requested that all the Jews might be destroyed. He backs his petition with three arguments: first, It was a scattered Nation; had they inhabited one entire country, their extirpation would have weakened his empire, but being dispersed, though killed every where, they would have been miss no where; secondly, his Empire would be more uniform when this irregular people, not observing his Laws, were taken away; thirdly, ten thousand talents Haman would pay into the bargain into the King's Treasure. What, out of his own purse? I see his pride was above his covetousness; and spiteful men count their revenge a purchase which cannot be overbought: or perchance this money should arise out of the confiscation of their goods. Thus Ahasuerus should lock all the Jews into his chest, and by help of hamans' chemistry convert them into silver. See how this grand destroyer of a whole Nation pleads the King's profit. Thus our puny depopulatours allege for their do the Kings and countries' good; and we will believe them, when they can persuade us that their private coffers are the King's exchequer. But never any wounded the Commonwealth, but first they kissed it, pretending the public good. Hamans' silver is dross with Ahasuerus: only his pleasure is currant with him. If Haman will have it so, so it shall freely be; he will give him and not sell him his favour. 'Tis woeful when great Judges see parties accused by other men's eyes, but condemn them by their own mouths: and now Posts were sent thorough out all Persia to execute the King's cruel decree. I had almost forgotten how before this time Mordecai had discovered the treason, which two of the King's Chamberlains had plotted against him; which good service of his, though not presently paid, yet was scored up in the Chronicles, not rewarded but recorded, where it slept till a due occasion did awake it. Perchance haman's envy kept it from the King's knowledge; and Princes sometimes to reward the desert of men want not mind, but minding of it To proceed: See the Jews all pitifully pensive, and fasting in sackcloth and ashes, even to Queen Esther herself, which (unknown to Haman) was one of that nation. And to be brief, Esther invites Ahasuerus and Haman to a banquet (whose life shall pay the reckoning) and next day they are both invited to a second entertainment. Mean time Haman provides a gallows of fifty cubits high to hang Mordecai on. Five cubits would have served the turn; and had it took effect, the height of the gallows had but set his soul so much the farther on his journey towards heaven. His stomach was so sharp set, he could not stay till he had dined on all the Jews, but first he must break his fast on Mordecai; and fit it was this bell-wether should be sacrificed before the rest of the flock: wherefore he comes to the Court to get leave to put him to death. The night before Ahasuerus had passed without sleep. The Chronicles are called for, either to invite slumber, or to entertain waking with the less tediousness. God's hand in the margin points the Reader to the place where Mordecai's good service was related; and Ahasuerus asketh Haman (newly come into the presence) what shall be done to the man whom the King will honour? Haman being now (as he thought) to measure his own happiness, had been much too blame if he made it not of the largest size. He cuts out a garment of honour, royal both for matter and making, for Mordecai to wear. By the Kings command he becomes Mordecai's herald and Page, lacquying by him riding on the King's steed (who he hoped by this time should have mounted the wooden horse) and then pensive in heart hasts home to bemoan himself to his friends. Hamans' wife proves a true prophetess, presaging his ruin. If the feet of a Favourite begin to slip on the steep hill of Honour, his own weight will down with him to the bottom: once past noon with him, it is presently night. For at the next feast Ahasuerus is mortally incensed against him for plotting the death of Esther, with the rest of her people. (For had his project succeeded, probably the Jew had not been spared for being a Queen, but the Queen had been killed for being a Jew.) Haman in a careless sorrowful posture, more minding his life then his lust, had cast himself on the Queen's bed. Will he force the Queen also (said Ahasuerus) before me in the house? These words rang his passing-bell in the Court, and according to the Persian fashion they covered his face, putting him in a winding sheet that was dead in the King's favour. The next news we hear of him is, that by exchange Haman inherits the gibbet of Mordecai, and Mordecai the house and greatness of Haman, the decree against the Jews being generally reversed. THOMAS WOLSEY Archbishop of York, chancellor of England Cardinal and Legate de Latere. He Died at Leicester Abby▪ Anno Dni 1529. the 29th of November. W.M. sculp: CHAP. 3. The life of Card. WOLSEY. THomas Wolsey was born at Ipswich in Suffolk, whose father was a Butcher, and an * Parentem habuit virum p●ob 'em at lanium, Pol. Virgil. pag. 633. honest man, and was there brought up at school, where afterwards he built a beautiful college. From Ipswich he went to Oxford, and from thence was preferred to be Schoolmaster to the marquis of Dorset's children, where he first learned to be imperious over Noble blood. By the stairs of a Parsonage or two he climbed up at last into the notice of Fox, Bishop of Winchester, and was received to be his Secretary. There was at that time a faction at Court betwixt Bishop Fox and Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey. The Bishop being very old was scarce able to make good his party; yet it grieved him not so much to stoop to Nature as to the Earl his corrival: wherefore not able to manage the matter himself, he was contented to be the stock whereon Wolsey should be graffed, whom he made heir to his favour, commending him to King Henry the seventh for one fit to serve a King, and command others: And hereupon he was entertained at Court. Soon after, when Henry his son came to the Crown, Wolsey quickly found the length of his foot, and fitted him with an easy shoe. He persuaded him that it was good accepting of pleasure whilst youth tendered it: let him follow his sports, whilst Wolsey would undertake every night briefly to represent unto him all matters of moment which had passed the counsel-table. For Princes are to take State-affairs not in the mass and whole bulk of them, but only the spirits thereof skilfully extracted. And hereupon the King referred all matters to Wolsey's managing, on whom he conferred the bishoprics of Duresme, Winchester, and York, with some other spiritual promotions. Nothing now hindered Wolsey's prospect to overlook the whole Court but the head of Edward Stafford Duke of Buckingham, who was high in birth, honour, and estate. For as for Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, he stood not in Wolsey's way, but rather besides then against him: Brandon being the King's companion in pleasures, Wolsey his counsellor in policy; Brandon Favourite to Henry, Wolsey to the King. Wolsey takes this Buckingham to task, who (otherwise a brave Gentleman) was proud and popular; and that tower is easily undermined whose foundation is hollow. His own folly with Wolsey's malice overthrew him. Vainglory ever lieth at an open guard, and giveth much advantage of play to her enemies. The Duke is condemned of high treason, though rather corrival with the King for his Clothes then his Crown, being excessively brave in apparel. The axe that kills Buckingham frights all others, who turn contesting into complying with our Archbishop, now Cardinal, Legate à latere, and Lord-Chancellour. All the Judges stood at the bar of his devotion. His displeasure more feared than the Kings, whose anger though violent was placable; the Cardinals of less fury, but more malice: yet in matters of Judicature he behaved himself commendably. I hear no widows sighs, nor see orphans tears in our Chronicles caused by him: sure in such cases wherein his private ends made him not a party, he was an excellent Justicer, as being too proud to be bribed, and too strong to be overborne. Next he aspires to the Triple Grown; he only wants holiness, and must be Pope. Yet was it a great labour for a Tramountain to climb over the Alps to S. Peter's Chair; a long leap from York to Rome, and therefore he needed to take a good rise. Besides he used Charles the fift, Emperor, for his staff, gold he gave to the Romish Cardinals, and they gave him golden promises, so that at last Wolsey perceived, both the Emperor and the Court of Rome delayed and deluded him. He is no fox whose den hath but one hole: Wolsey finding this way stopped, goes another way to work, and falls off to the French King, hoping by his help to obtain his desires. However if he help not himself, he would hinder Charles the Emperor's designs; and revenge is a great preferment. Wherefore covertly he seeks to make a divorce betwixt Queen Katherine, Dowager, the Emperor's Aunt, and King Henry the eighth his Master. Queen Katherine's age was above her Husbands, her gravity above her age; more pious at her beads then pleasant in her bed, a better woman than a wife, and a fit wife for any Prince than King Henry. Wolsey by his instruments persuades the King to put her away, pleading they were so contiguous and near in kindred, they might not be made continuous (one flesh) in marriage, because she before had been wife to Prince Arthur the King's brother. Besides, the King wanted a male heir, which he much desired. Welcome whisper are quickly heard. The King embraceth the motion: the matter is entered in the Romish Court, but long delayed; the Pope first meaning to divorce most of the gold from England in this tedious suit. But here Wolsey miscarried in the masterpiece of his policy. For he hoped upon the divorce of King Henry from Queen Katherine his wife (which with much ado was effected) to advance a marriage betwixt him and the King of France his sister, thinking with their nuptial ring to wed the King of France eternally to himself, and mould him for farther designs: whereas contrary to his expectation King Henry fell in love with Anna Bullen, a Lady whole beauty exceeded her birth (though honourable) wit her beauty, piety all; one for his love not lust, so that there was no gathering of green fruit from her till marriage had ripened it: whereupon the King took her to wife. Not long after followed the ruin of the Cardinal, caused by his own viciousness, heightened by the envy of his Adversaries. He was caught in a praemunire for procuring to be Legate de latere, and advancing the Pope's power against the Laws of the Realm; and eight other Articles were framed against him, for which we report the Reader to our * Fox Acts & Monuments▪ p. 996. Chronicles. The main was, his Ego & Rex meus, wherein he remembered his old profession of a Schoolmaster, and forgot his present estate of a Statesman. But as for some things laid to his charge, his friends plead, that where potent malice is Promoter, the accusations shall not want proof, though the proof may want truth. Well, the broad seal was taken from him, and some of his spiritual Preferments. Yet was he still left Bishop of Winchester, and Archbishop of York▪ so that the King's goodness hitherto might have seemed rather to ease him of burdensome greatness, then to have deprived him of wealth or honour: which whether he did out of love to Wolsey, or fear of the Pope, I interpose no opinion. Home now went Wolsey into Yorkshire, and lived at his manor of Cawood, where he wanted nothing the heart of man could desire for contentment. But great minds count every place a prison, which is not a King's Court; and just it was that he which would not see his own happiness, should therefore feel his own misery. He provided for his installing Archbishop State equivalent to a King's Coronation, which his ambition revived other of his misdemeanours, and by command from the King he was arrested by the Earl of Northumberland, and so took his journeys up to London. By the way his soul was racked betwixt different tidings; now hoist up with hope of pardon, then instantly let down with news of the King's displeasure, till at Leicester his heart was broken with these sudden and contrary motions. The story goes that he should breathe out his soul with speeches to this effect, Had I been as careful to serve the God of Heaven, as I have to comply to the will of my earthly King, God would not have left me in mine old age, as the other hath done. His body swelled after his death, as his mind did whilst he was living, which with other symptoms gave the suspicion that he poisoned himself. It will suffice us to observe, If a Great man much beloved dyeth suddenly, the report goes that others poisoned him: If he be generally hated, then that he poisoned himself. Sure never did a Great man fall with less pity. Some of his own servants with the feathers they got under him flew to other Masters. Most of the Clergy (more pitying his Profession then Person) were glad that the felling of this oak would cause the growth of much underwood. Let Geomatrician measure the vastness of his mind by the footsteps of his Buildings, Christ-Church White-Hall, Hampton-Court: And no wonder if some of these were not finished, seeing his life was rather broken off then ended. Sure King Henry lived in two of his houses, and lies now in the third, I mean his tomb at Windsor. In a word, in his prime he was the bias of the Christian world, drawing the bowl thereof to what side he pleased. CHAP. 4. The life of CHARLES BRANDON, Duke of Suffolk. Charles' Brandon was son to Sr. William Brandon, Standerd-bearer to King Henry the seaventh, in whose quarrel he was slain in Bosworth field; wherefore the King counted himself bound in honour and conscience to favour young Charles, whose father spent his last breath to blow him to the haven of victory, and caused him to be brought up with Prince Henry, his second son. The intimacy betwixt them took deep impression in their tender years, which hardened with continuance of time proved indelible. It was advanced by the sympathy of their active spirits (men of quick and large-striding minds loving to walk together) not to say, that the looseness of their youthful lives made them the faster friends. Henry, when afterwards King, heaped honours upon him, created him Viscount Lisle, and Duke of Suffolk. Not long after some of the English Nobility got leave to go to the public Tilting in Paris, and there behaved themselves right valiantly, though the sullen French would scarce speak a word in their praise. For they conceived it would be an eternal impoverishing of the credit of their Nation, if the honour of the day should be exported by foreiners. But Brandon bore away the credit from all, fight at Barriers with a giant Almain, till he made an earthquake in that mountain of flesh, making him reel and * Hollinshed, pag 833. stagger, and many other courses at Tilt he performed to admiration. Yea, the Lords beheld him not with more envious, than the Ladies with gracious eyes, who darted more glances in love, than the other ran spears in anger against him; especially marry the French Queen, and sister to King Henry the eighth, who afterward proved his wife. For after the death of Lewis the twelfth her husband, King Henry her brother employed Charles Brandon to bring her over into England; who improved his service so well that he got her good will to marry her. Whether his affections were so ambitious to climb up to her, or hers so courteous as to descend to him (who had been * First married to Margaret Nevil, after to Anne, daughter to Sr Anthony Brown. twice a widower before) let youthful pens dispute it: it sufficeth us, both met together. Then wrote he in humble manner to request King Henry's leave to marry his sister; but knowing that matters of this nature are never sure till finished, and that leave is sooner got to do such attempts when done already; and wisely considering with himself that there are but few days in the almanac, wherein such Marriages come in, and subjects have opportunity to wed Queens, he first married her * Hollinshed, pag. 836. privately in Paris. King Henry after the acting of some anger, and showing some state-discontent, was quickly contented therewith; yea the world conceiveth that he gave this woman to be married to this man, in sending him on such an employment. At Calis they were afterward remarried, or if you will their former private marriage publicly solemnised, and coming into England lived many years in honour and esteem, no less dear to his fellow-subjects then his sovereign. He was often employed general in martial affairs, especially in the wars betwixt the English and French, though the greatest performance on both sides was but mutual indenting the Dominions each of other with inroads. When the divorce of King Henry from Queen Katherine was so long in agitation, Brandon found not himself a little aggrieved at the King's expense of time and money: for the Court of Rome in such matters, wherein money is gotten by delays, will make no more speed than the beast in Brasil, which the Spaniards call Pigritia, which goes no farther in a fortnight than a man will cast a stone. Yea Brandon well perceived that Cardinal Campeius and Wolsey in their Court at Bridewell, wherein the divorce was judicially handled, intended only to produce a solemn Nothing, their Court being but the clock set according to the dial at Rome, and the instructions received thence. Wherefore knocking on the table, in the presence of the two Cardinals, he bond it with an oath, That It was never well in England since Cardinals had any thing to do therein: And from that time forward, as an active instrument, he endeavoured the abolishing of the Pope's power in England. For he was not only (as the Papists complain * Sanders. de Schismate Anglicano, p. 108. of him) a principal agent in that Parliament, Anno. 1534. wherein the Pope's supremacy was abrogated, but also a main means of the overturning of Abbeys, as conceiving that though the head was struck off, yet as long as that neck and those shoulders remained there would be a continual appetite of reuniting themselves. Herein his thoughts were more pure from the mixture of covetousness than many other employed in the same service: For after that our eyes, justly dazzled at first with the brightness of God's Justice on those vicious fraternities, have somewhat recovered themselves, they will serve us to see the greedy appetites of some instruments to feed on Church-morsels. He lived and died in the full favour of his Prince, though as Cardinal Pool observed, they who were highest in this King's favour, their heads were nearest danger. Indeed King Henry was not very tender in cutting off that joint, and in his reign the axe was seldom wiped, before wetted again with Noble blood. He died Anno 1544. much beloved, and lamented of all, for his bounty, humility, valour, and all noble virtues, since the heat of his youth was tamed in his reduced age, and lies buried at Windsor. CHAP. 5. The wise Statesman. TO describe the Statesman at large, is the subject rather of a Volume then a Chapter, and is as fare beyond my power, as wide of my profession. We will not launch into the deep, but satisfy ourselves to sail by the shore, and briefly observe his carriage towards God, his King, himself, home-people, and foreign Princes. He counts the fear of God the beginning of wisdom; Maxim 1 and therefore esteemeth no project profitable, which is not lawful; nothing politic, which crosseth piety. Let not any plead for the contrary Hushai's dealing with Absalon, which strongly favoured of double-dealing; for what is a question cannot be an argument, seeing the lawfulness of his deed therein was never decided; and he is unwise that will venture the state of his soul on the litigious title of such an example. Besides, we must live by God's precepts, not by the godlies practice. And though God causeth sometimes the sun of success to shine as well on bad as good projects, yet commonly wicked actions end in shame at the last. 2 In giving counsel to his Prince, he had rather displease then hurt him. plaindealing is one of the daintiest rarities can be presented to some Princes, as being novelty to them all times of the year. The Philosopher could say, * Seneca de benefic. lib. 3. c. 30. Quid omnia possidentibus deest? Ille qui verum dicat. Wherefore our Statesman seeks to undeceive his Prince from the fallacies of flatterers, who by their plausible persuasions have bolstered up their crooked counsels, to make them seem strait in the King's eyes. 3 Yet if dissenting from his sovereign, he doth it with all humility and moderation. It is neither manners nor wit to cross Princes in their game, much less in their serious affairs. Yea, it may be Rebellion in a subject to give his sovereign loyal counsel, if proceeding from a spirit of contradiction and contempt, and uttered in audacious language. What do these but give wholesome physic, wrapped up in poisoned papers? 4 He is constant, but not obstinate in the advice he gives. Some think it beneath a wise man to alter their opinion: A maxim both false and dangerous. We know what worthy Father wrote his own Retractation; and it matters not though we go back from our word, so we go forward in the truth and a sound judgement. Such a one changeth not his main opinion, which ever was this, to embrace that course which upon mature deliberation shall appear unto him the most advised. As for his carriage towards himself, 5 He taketh an exact survey of his own defects and perfections. As for the former, his weaknesses and infirmities he doth carefully and wisely conceal: sometimes he covers them over with a cautious confidence, and presents a fair hilt, but keeps the sword in the sheath which wanteth an edge. But this he manageth with much art, otherwise, being betrayed, it would prove most ridiculous, and it would make brave music to his enemies, to hear the hissing of an empty bladder when it is pricked. His known perfections he seeks modestly to cloud and obscure. 6 It is needless to show the sun shining, which will break out of itself. Not like our phantastics, who having a fine watch draw all occasions to draw it out to be seen. Yea, because sometimes he concealeth his sufficiency in such things, wherein others know he hath ability, he shall therefore be thought at other times to have ability in those matters wherein indeed he wants it, men interpreting him therein rather modestly to dissemble, then to be defective. Yet when just occasion is offered, he shows his perfections sound, though seldom, and then graceth them out to the best advantage. In discourse he is neither too free, 7 nor overreserved, but observes a mediocrity. His hall is common to all comers, but his closet is locked. General matters he is as liberal to impart, as careful to conceal importancies. Moderate liberty in speech inviteth and provoketh liberty to be used again, where a constant closeness makes all suspect him: and his company is burdensome that liveth altogether on the expenses of others, and will lay out nothing himself. Yea, who will barter intelligence with him, that returns no considerable ware in exchange? He trusteth not any with a secret which may endanger his estate. 8 For if he tells it to his servant, he makes him his master; if to his friend, he enables him to be a foe, and to undo him at pleasure, whose secrecy he must buy at the parties own price, and if ever he shuts his purse, the other opens his mouth. Matters of inferior consequence he will communicate to a fast friend, and crave his advice; for two eyes see more than one, though it be never so big, and set (as in Polyphemus) in the midst of the forehead. 9 He is careful and provident in the managing of his private estate. Excellently * Lib. 2. the ofsic. cap. 112. Ambrose, An idoneum putabo qui mihi det consilium, qui non dat sibi? Well may Princes suspect those Statesmen not to be wise in the business of the commonwealth, who are fools in ordering their own affairs. Our Politician, if he enlargeth not his own estate, at least keeps it in good repair. As for avaricious courses, he disdaineth them. Sr Thomas More, though some years' Lord-Chancellour of England, scarce left his son * Sanders. de Schism. Anglic. pag. 118. five and twenty pounds ayeare more than his father left him. And Sir Henry Sidney (father to Sir Philip) being Lord precedent of Wales and Ireland, got not * Henry Lho●d, in the beginning of his Welsh Chronicle. one foot of land in either country, rather seeking after the common good than his private profit. I must confess the last age produced an English Statesman, who was the picklock of the cabinets of foreign Princes, who, though the wisest in his time and way, died poor and indebted to private men, though not so much as the whole kingdom was indebted to him. But such an accident is rare; and a small hospital will hold those Statesmen who have impaired their means, not by their private carelessness, but carefulness for the public. As for his carriage towards home-people, 10 He studieth men's natures, first reading the Title-pages of them by the report of Fame: but credits not Fames relations to the full. Otherwise, as in London-exchange one shall overbuy wares, who gives half the price at first demanded, so he that believeth the moiety of Fame may believe too much. Wherefore to be more accurate, 11 He reads the Chapters of men's natures (chief his concurrents and competitors) by the reports of their friends and foes, making allowance for their engagements, not believing all in the mass, but only what he judiciously extracteth. Yet virtues confessed by their foes, and vices acknowledged by their friends, are commonly true. The best intelligence, if it can be obtained, is from a fugitive Privado. But the most legible Character and truest Edition wherein he reads a man is in his own occasional openings: 12 And that in these three cases. 1 When the party discloses himself in his wine: for though it be unlawful to practise on any to make them drunk, yet no doubt one may make a good use of another man's abusing himself. What they say of the herb Lunaria ceremoniously gathered at some set times, that laid upon any lock, it makes it fly open, is most true of drunkenness, unbolting the most important secrets. 2 When he discovereth himself in his passions. Physicians to make some small veins in their patient's arms plump and full, that they may see them the better to let them blood, use to put them into hot water: so the heat of passion presenteth many invisible veins in men's hearts to the eye of the beholder; yea the sweat of anger washeth off their paint, and makes them appear in their true colours. 3 When accidentally they bolt out speeches unawares to themselves. More hold is then to be taken of a few words casually uttered, then of set solemn speeches, which rather show men's arts then their natures, as indicted rather from their brains then hearts. The drop of one word may show more than the stream of an whole oration; and our Statesman by examining such fugitive passages (which have stolen on a sudden out of the party's mouth) arrives at his best intelligence. 13 In Court-factions he keeps himself in a free neutrality. Otherwise to engage himself needlessely were both folly and danger. When Francis the first, King of France, was consulting with his Captains how to lead his army * Pere de Lancre, of the uncertainty of things, lib. 2. fourth discourse over the Alps into Italy, whether this way or that way, Amarillis his fool sprung out of a corner, where he sat unseen, and bade them rather take care which way they should bring their army out of Italy back again. Thus is it easy for one to interest and embark himself in others quarrels, but much difficulty it is to be disengaged from them afterwards. Nor will our Statesman entitle himself a party in any feminine discords, knowing that women's jars breed men's wars. 14 Yet he counts neutrality profaneness in such matters wherein God, his Prince, the Church, or State are concerned. Indeed, He that meddleth with strife not belonging unto him is like one that taketh a dog by the ears. Prov. 26.17. Yet if the dog worrieth a sheep, we may, yea ought to rescue it from his teeth, and must be champions for innocence when it is overborne with might. He that will stand neuter in such matters of moment, wherein his calling commands him to be a party, with Servilius in Rome, will please neither side: Of whom the Historian says, P. Servilius medium se gerendo, nec plebis vitavit odium, nec apud Patres gratiam inivit. And just it is with God, that they should be strained in the twist, who stride so wide as to set their legs in two opposite sides. Indeed an upright shoe may fit both feet, but never saw I glove that would serve both hands. Neutrality in matters of an indifferent nature may fit well, but never suit well in important matters, of fare different conditions. 15 He is the centre wherein lines of intelligence meet from all foreign countries. He is careful that his outlandish instructions be full, true, and speedy; not with the sluggard telling for news at noon, that the sun is risen. But more largely hereof in the ambassador, hereafter. He refuseth all underhand pensions from foreign Princes. 16 Indeed honorary rewards received with the approbation of his sovereign may be lawful, and less dangerous. For although even such gifts tacitly oblige him by way of gratitude to do all good offices to that foreign Prince whose Pensioner he is; yet his counsels pass not but with an open abatement, in regard of his known engagements, and so the State is armed against the advice of such, who are well known to lean to one side. But secret pensions which flow from foreign Princes, like the river Anas in Spain, under ground, not known or discerned, are most mischievous. The receivers of such will play underboard at the counsel-table; and the eating and digesting of such outlandish food will by degrees fill their veins with outlandish blood, even in their very hearts. His masterpiece is in negotiating for his own Master with foreign Princes. 17 At Rhodes there was a contention betwixt Apelles and Protogenes, corrivals in the Mystery of Limming. Apelles with his pencil drew a very slender even line; Protogenes drew another more small and slender in the midst thereof with another colour: Apelles again with a third line of a different colour drew thorough the midst of that Protogenes had made, * Plin. nat. Hist. lib. 34. cap. 10. Nullum relinquens amplius subtilitati locum. Thus our Statesman traverseth matters, doubling and redoubling in his foreign negotiations with the Politicians of other Princes, winding, and entrenching themselves mutually within the thoughts each of other, till at last our Statesman leaves no degree of subtlety to go beyond him. To conclude: Some plead that dissembling is lawful in the State-craft, upon the presupposition that men must meet with others which dissemble. Yea they hold, that thus to counterfeit, se defendendo, against a crafty corrival, is no sin, but a just punishment on our adversary, who first began it. And therefore Statesmen sometimes must use crooked shoes, to fit hurled feet. Besides, the honest Politician would quickly be beggared, if, receiving black money from cheatours, he pays them in good silver, and not in their own coin back again. For my part, I confess that herein I rather see what then whither to fly; neither able to answer their arguments, nor willing to allow their practice. But what shall I say? They need to have steady heads who can dive into these gulfs of policy, and come out with a safe conscience. I'll look no longer on these whirlpools of State, lest my pen turn giddy. WILLIAM CECIL Baron of Burgleigh & Lord Treasurer of England. He died Anno 1598. Aged 77 years. W. marshal sculp: CHAP. 6. The life of William Cecil Lord Burleigh. WIlliam Cecil born at Bourn in Lincolnshire, descended from the ancient and worshipful Family of the Sitsilts or Cecils of Alterynnis in Herefordshire, on the confines of Wales; a name which a great * Verstegen, restitut. of decayed intelligence, pag. 312. Antiquary thinks probably derived from the Roman Cecilii. No credit is to be given to their pens, who tax him with meanness of birth, and whose malice is so general against all goodness, that it had been a slander if this worthy man had not been slandered by them: The servant is not above his master; and we know what aspersions their malice sought to cast on the Queen herself. He being first bred in S. John's college in Cambridge, went thence to Gray's inn (and used it as an inn indeed, studying there in his Passage to the Court) where he attained good learning in the Laws: yet his skill in fencing made him not daring to quarrel, who in all his life-time neither * Cambd. Elizab. in Anno 1598. sued any, nor was sued himself. He was after Master of the Requests (the first that ever bare that office) unto the Duke of Somerset, Lord protector, and was knighted by King Edward the sixth. One * S ●. john Hayward in his Edward sixth, p. 417. challengeth him to have been a main contriver of that act, and unnatural will of King Edward the sixth, wherein the King passing by his sisters, Marie and Elizabeth, entailed the Crown on Queen Jane; and that he furnished that act with reasons of State, as Judge Montague filled it with arguments of Law. Indeed his hand wrote it, as Secretary of State, but his heart consented not thereto; yea he openly * Cambden, ut priús. opposed it, though at last yielding to the greatness of Northumberland, in an age wherein it was present drowning, not to swim along with the stream. But as the * Aristot. lib. 2. de coelo cap. 4. & 10. Philosopher tells us, that though the Planets be whirled about daily from East to West by the motion of the Primum mobile, yet have they also a contrary proper motion of their own, from West to East, which they slowly yet surely move at their leisures: so Cecil had secret counter-endeavours against the strain of the Court herein, and privately advanced his rightful intentions against the foresaid Duke's ambition; and we see that afterward Queen Marie not only pardoned but employed him; so that towards the end of her reign he stood in some twilight of her favour. As for Sr. Edward Montague Lord chief Justice, what he did was by command against his own will, as appears by his written protestation at his death, still in the hands of his honourable posterity. But whilst in this army of offenders, the Nobility in the ●ront made an escape for themselves, Queen Mary's displeasure overtook the old Judge in the rear, the good old man being not able with such speed to provide for himself; yea though he had done nothing but by general consent and command, the rest of the Lords laid load on him, desirous that the Queen's anger should send him on an errand to the prison, and thence to the scaffold, to excuse themselves from going on the same message. However, after some imprisonment he was pardoned; a sufficient argument, that the Queen conceived him to concur passively in that action. In Queen Elizabeth's days he was made Secretary of State, Master of the Wards, Lord Treasurer, and at last after long service Baron of Burleigh. For the Queen honoured her honours in conferring them sparingly, thereby making Titles more substantial, wherewith she paid many for their service. The best demonstration of his care in stewarding her Treasure was this, that the Queen, vying gold and silver with the King of Spain, had money or credit, when the other had neither; her Exchequer, though but a pond in comparison, holding water, when his river, fed with a spring from the Indies, was dreined dry. In that grand faction betwixt Leicester and Sussex, he meddled not openly, though 'tis easy to tell whom he wished the best to. Indeed this cunning Wrestler would never catch hold to grapple openly with Leicester (as having somewhat the disadvantage of him both in height and strength) but as they ran to their several goles, if they chanced to meet, Burleigh would fairly give him a trip, and be gone; and the Earl had many a rub laid in his way, yet never saw who put it there. 'tis true, the swordmen accused him as too cold in the Queen's credit, and backward in fight against foreign enemies. Indeed he would never engage the State in a war, except necessity, or her majesty's honour, sounded the alarm: But no reason he should be counted an enemy to the Sparks of Valour, who was so careful to provide them fuel, and pay the soldier. Otherwise, in vain do the brows frown, the eyes sparkle, the tongue threaten, the fist bend, and the arm strike, except the belly be fed. The Queen reflected her favour highly upon him, counting him both her Treasurer, and her principal Treasure. She would cause him always to sit down in her presence, because troubled with the gout, and used to tell him: My Lord, we make much of you, not for your bad legs, but for your good head. This caused him to be much envied of some great ones at Court; and at one time no fewer than the * Cambden. Elizab. Anno 1579. marquis of Winchester, Duke of Norfolk, Earls of Arundel, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Pembroke and Leicester combining against him, taking advantage about his making over some moneys beyond sea to the French Protestants, and on some other occasions; Sr Nicholas Throgmorton advised them first to clap him up in prison, saying, that if he were once shut up, men would open their mouths to speak freely against him. But the Queen understanding hereof, and standing, as I may say, in the very prison-doore, quashed all their designs, and freed him from the mischief projected against him. He was a good friend to the Church, as then established by Law; he used to advise his eldest son Thomas never to bestow any great cost, or to build any great house on an Impropriation, as fearing the foundation might fail hereafter. A Patron to both Universities, chief to Cambridge, whereof he was chancellor; and though Rent-corn first grew in the head of Sr Thomas Smith, it was ripened by Burleighs assistance, whereby though the rents of colleges stand still, their revenues increase. No man was more pleasant and merry at meals; and he had a pretty wit-rack in himself, to make the dumb to speak, to draw speech out of the most sullen and * Hottoman in descrip. of the ambassador witnesseth so much, who had be●n at his table. silent guest at his table, to show his disposition in any point he should propound. For foreign intelligence, though he traded sometimes on the stock of Secretary Walsingham, yet wanted he not a plentiful bank of his own. At night when he put off his gown, he used to say, Lie there, Lord Treasurer, and bidding adieu to all State-affairs, disposed himself to his quiet rest. Some looking on the estate he left, have wondered that it was so great, and afterwards wondered more that it was so little, having considered what Offices he had, and how long he enjoyed them. His harvest lasted every day for above thirty years together, wherein he allowed some of his servants the same courtesy Boaz granted to Ruth, to glean even among the sheaves, and to suffer some handfuls also to fall on purpose for them, whereby they raised great estates. To draw to a conclusion: There arose a great question in State, whether war with Spain should be continued, or a peace drawn up? The Sword and gownsmen brought weighty arguments on both sides, stamping also upon them with their private interests, to make them more heavy: Burleigh was all against war, now old, being desirous to departed in peace, both private in his Conscience, and public in the State. But his life was determined before the question was fully decided. In his sickness the Queen often visited him, a good plaster to assuage his pain, but unable to prolong his life; so that, Cum satis naturae, satisque gloriae, putriae autem non satis vixisset, in the seventy seventh year of his age, Anno 1598. he exchanged this life for a better. God measured his outward happiness not by an ordinary standard: How many great Undertakers in State set in a cloud, whereas he shined to the last? Herein much is to be ascribed to the Queen's constancy, who to confute the observation of Feminine fickleness, where her favour did light it did lodge; more to his own temper and moderation, whereas violent & boisterous medlars in State cripple themselves with aches in their age; most to God's goodness, who honoureth them that honour him. He saw Thomas his eldest son richly married to an honourable coheir; Robert, able to stand alone in Court, having a competent portion of favour, which he knew thriftily to improve, being a pregnant proficient in State-discipline. CHAP. 7. The good judge. THe good Advocate, whom we * Lib. 2. cap. 1. formerly described, is since by his Prince's favour, and own deserts, advanced to be a Judge: which his place he freely obtained with Sr. Augustine * Bolton in his funer. notes on him. nicols, whom King James used to call the judge that would give no money. Otherwise they that buy Justice by wholesale, to make themselves savours must sell it by retail. Maxim 1 He is patiented and attentive in hearing the plead on both sides; and hearkens to the witnesses, though tedious. He may give a waking testimony who hath but a dreaming utterance; and many country people must be impertinent, before they can be pertinent, and cannot give evidence about an hen, but first they must begin with it in the egg. All which our Judge is contented to hearken to. 2 He meets not a testimony halfway, but stays till it come at him. He that proceeds on half-evidence, will not do quarter-justice. Our Judge will not go till he is lead. If any shall browbeat a pregnant witness, on purpose to make his proof miscarry, he checketh them, and helps the witness that labours in his delivery. On the other side, he nips those Lawyers, who under a pretence of kindness to lend a witness some words, give him new matter, yea clean contrary to what he intended. Having heard with patience, 3 he gives sentence with uprightness. For when he put on his robes, he put off his relations to any; and like Melchisedech becomes without pedigree. His private affections are swallowed up in the common cause, as rivers lose their names in the ocean. He therefore allows no noted favourites, which cannot but cause multiplication of fees, and suspicion of byways. He silences that Lawyer who seeks to set the neck of a bad cause, 4 once broken with a definitive sentence; and causeth that contentious suits be spewed out, as the surfeits of Courts. He so hates bribes, 5 that he is jealous to receive any kindness above the ordinary proportion of friendship; lest like the Sermons of wand'ring Preachers, they should end in begging. And surely Integrity is the proper portion of a Judge. Men have a touchstone whereby to try gold, but gold is the touchstone whereby to try men. It was a shrewd gird which Catulus gave the Roman Judges for acquitting Clodius a great malefactor, when he met them going home well attended with Officers; You do well (quoth he) to be well * Plutar. in the life of Cicero, pag. 872. guarded for your safety, lest the money be taken away from you, you took for bribes. Our Judge also detesteth the trick of Mendicant friars, who will touch no money themselves, but have a boy with a bag to receive it for them. When he sits upon life, 6 in judgement he remembreth mercy. Then (they say) a butcher may not be of the jury, much less let him be the Judge. Oh let him take heed how he strikes, that hath a dead hand. It was the charge Queen Marie gave to Judge Morgan, chief Justice of the common Pleas, that notwithstanding the old * Holinshed in Queen Marie, pag. 1112. error amongst Judges did not admit any witness to speak, or any other matter to be heard in favour of the adversary, her majesty being party; yet her highness' pleasure was that whatsoever could be brought in the favour of the Subject should be admitted and heard. 7 If the cause be difficult, his diligence is the greater to sift it out. For though there be mention, Psal. 37.6. of righteousness as clear as the noonday, yet God forbidden that that innocency which is no clearer than twilight should be condemned. And seeing one's oath commands another's life, he searcheth whether malice did not command that oath: yet when all is done, the Judge may be deceived by false evidence. But blame not the hand of the dial, if it points at a false hour, when the fault's in the wheels of the clock which direct it, and are out of frame. 8 The sentence of condemnation he pronounceth with all gravity. 'Tis best when steeped in the judge's tears. He avoideth all jesting on men in misery: easily may he put them out of countenance, whom he hath power to put out of life. 9 Such as are unworthy to live, and yet unfit to die, he provides shall be instructed. By God's mercy, and good teaching, the reprieve of their bodies may get the pardon of their souls, and one days longer life for them here may procure a blessed eternity for them hereafter, as may appear by this memorable Example. It happened about the year one thousand five hundred and fifty six in the town of * Melchior Adamus in vit. Jac. Andreae, pag. 639. Weissenstein in Germany that a Jew for theft he had committed, was in this cruel manner to be executed: He was hanged by the feet with his head downwards betwixt two dogs, which constantly snatched and bit at him. The strangeness of the torment moved Jacobus Andrea's (a grave, moderate, and learned Divine as any in that age) to go to behold it. Coming thither he found the poor wretch, as he hung, repeating Verses out of the Hebrew psalms, wherein he cried out to God for mercy. Andrea's hereupon took occasion to counsel him to trust in Jesus Christ the true Saviour of mankind: The Jew embracing the Christian Faith, requested but this one thing, that he might be taken down and be baptised, though presently after he were hanged again (but by the neck as Christian malefactors suffered) which was accordingly granted him. He is exact to do justice in civil Suits betwixt sovereign and Subject. 10 This will most ingratiate him with his Prince at last. Kings neither are, can, nor should be Lawyers themselves, by reason of higher State-employments, but herein they see with the eyes of their Judges, and at last will break those false spectacles which (in point of Law) shall be found to have deceived them. He counts the Rules of State and the Laws of the Realm mutually support each other. 11 Those who made the Laws to be not only disparate, but even opposite terms to maxims of Government, were true friends neither to Laws nor Government. Indeed Salus Reip. is Charta maxima: extremity makes the next the best remedy. Yet though hot waters be good to be given to one in a swound, they will burn his heart out who drinks them constantly, when in health. Extraordinary courses are not ordinarily to be used, when not enforced by absolute necessity. And thus we leave our good Judge to receive a just reward of his integrity from the Judge of Judges, at the great Assize of the world. CHAP. 8. The life of Sr. JOHN MARKHAM. IOhn Markham was born at Markham in Nottinghamshire, descended of an ancient and worthy family. He employed his youth in the studying of the municipal Law of this realm, wherein he attained to such eminency, that King Edward the fourth Knighted him, and made him Lord chief * 13. Maii. 1. Edwardi. 4. Justice of the King's Bench in the place of Sr John Fortescue, that learned and upright Judge, who fled away with King Henry the sixth. Yet Fortescue was not missed, because Markham succeeded him: and that loss, which otherwise could not be repaired, now could not be perceived. For though these two Judges did severally lean to the sides of Lancaster and York, yet both sat upright in matters of Judicature. We will instance and insist on one memorable act of our Judge, which though single in itself, was plural in the concern thereof. And let the Reader know, that I have not been careless to search, though unhappy not to find, the original Record, perchance abolished on purpose, and silenced for telling tales to the disgrace of great ones. We must now be contented to write this Story out of the English Chronicles; * Fabian. pag. 497 etc. Hollinshed pag. 670. and Stow in 12. of Edward the fourth. and let him die of drought without pity, who will not quench his thirst at the river, because he cannot come at the fountain. King Edward the fourth having married into the family of the Woodvills (Gentlemen of more antiquity than wealth, and of higher spirits than fortunes) thought it fit for his own honour to bestow honour upon them: But he could not so easily provide them of wealth, as titles. For honour he could derive from himself, like light from a candle, without any diminishing of his own lustre; whereas wealth flowing from him, as water from a fountain, made the spring the shallower. Wherefore he resolved to cut down some prime subjects, and to engraff the Queen's kindred into their estates, which otherwise like suckers must feed on the stock of his own Exchequer. There was at this time one Sr Thomas Cook, late Lord mayor of London, and Knight of the Bath, one who had well licked his fingers under Queen Margaret (whose Wardroper he was, and customer of Hampton) a man of a great estate. It was agreed that he should be accused of high Treason, and a Commission of Oyer and Terminer granted forth to the Lord Maior, the Duke of Clarence, the Earl of Warwick, the Lord Rivers, Sr. John Markham, Sr. John Fogg, etc. to try him in Guild Hall: And the King by private instructions to the Judge appeared so fare, that Cook, though he was not, must be found guilty, and if the Law were too short, the Judge must stretch it to the purpose. The fault laid to his charge was for lending moneys to Queen Margaret, wife to King Henry the sixth; the proof, was the confession of one Hawkins, who being racked in the Tower had confessed so much. The counsel for the King, hanging as much weight on the smallest wire as it would hold, aggravated each particular, & by their rhetorical flashes blew the fault up to a great height. Sr Thomas Cook pleaded for himself, that Hawkins indeed upon a season came to him, and requested him to lend one thousand marks, upon good security. But he desired first to know for whom the money should be: and understanding it was for Queen Margaret, denied to lend any money, though at last the said Hawkins descended so low as to require but one hundred pounds, and departed without any penny lent him. Judge Markham in a grave speech did recapitulate, select and collate the material points on either side, showing that the proof reached not the charge of high Treason, and misprision of Treason was the highest it could amount to, and intimated to the jury, to be tender in matter of life, and discharge good consciences. The jury being wise men (whose apprehensions could make up an whole sentence of every nod of the Judge) saw it behoved them to draw up Treason into as narrow a compass as might be, lest it became their own case; for they lived in a troublesome world, wherein the cards were so shuffled, that two Kings were turned up trump at once, which amazed men how to play their games. Whereupon they acquitted the prisoner of high Treason, and found him guilty, as the Judge directed. Yet it cost Sr Thomas Cook, before he could get his liberty, eight hundred pounds to the Queen, and eight thousand pounds to the King: A sum in that age more sounding like the ransom of a Prince, than the fine of a Subject. Besides, the Lord Rivers (the Queen's Father) had, during his Imprisonment, despoiled his houses, one in the city, another in the country of plate and furniture, for which he never received a penny recompense. Yet God righted him of the wrongs men did him, by blessing the remnant of his estate to him, and his posterity, which still flourish at Giddy Hall in Essex. As for Sr John Markham, the King's displeasure fell so heavy on him, that he was outed of his place, and Sr Thomas Billing put in his room, though the one lost that Office with more honour than the other got it; and gloried in this, that though the King could make him no Judge, he could not make him no upright Judge. He lived privately the rest of his days, having (besides the estate got by his practice) fair lands by Margaret his wife, daughter and coheir to Sr Simon Leak * Burtons' Le●●cestershire, pag. 577. of Cotham in Nottinghamshire, whose Mother Joan was daughter and heir of Sr John Talbot, of Swannington in Leicestershire. CHAP. 9 The good Bishop. HE is an Overseer of a Flock of Shepherds, as a Minister is of a Flock of God's sheep. Divine providence and his Prince's bounty advanced him to the Place, whereof he was no whit ambitious: only he counts it good manners to sit there where God hath placed him, though it be higher than he conceives himself to deserve, and hopes that he who called him to the Office hath or will in some measure fit him for it. His life is so spotless, Maxim 1 that Malice is angry with him, because she cannot be angry with him: because she can find no just cause to accuse him. And as * Diogen. Laerr. lib. 6. pag. 212. in vit. Diogenis. Diogenes confuted him who denied there was any motion, by saying nothing but walking before his eyes; so our Bishop takes no notice of the false accusations of people disaffected against his order, but walks on circumspectly in his calling, really refelling their cavils by his conversation. A Bishops bare presence at a marriage in his own diocese, is by the Law interpreted for a licence; and what actions soever he graceth with his company, he is conceived to privilege them to be lawful, which makes him to be more wary in his behaviour. With his honour, 2 his holiness and humility doth increase. His great Place makes not his piety the less: fare be it from him that the glittering of the candlestick should dim the shining of his candle. The meanest Minister of God's word may have free access unto him: whosoever brings a good cause brings his own welcome with him. The pious poor may enter in at his wide gates, when not so much as his wicket shall be open to wealthy unworthiness. 3 He is diligent and faithful in preaching the Gospel: either by his pen, Evangelizo manu & scriptione, saith a strict * Reinold. de Idol. Rom. Eccles. Epist. dedicat. Divine; or by his vocal Sermons (if age and other indispensable occasions hinder him not) teaching the clergy to preach, and the Laity to live, according to the ancient * Concil. To●etan. 2. Cap. 2. Tom. 4. pag. 820. Concil. Constant. 6. Can. 19 Tom. 5. pag. 328. Concil. Aurel. Can. 33. pag. 723. and lately, council Trident. Sess 24. Can. 4 Canons. Object not that it is unfitting he should lie Perdue, who is to walk the round, and that Governing as an higher employment is to silence his Preaching: For Preaching is a principal part of Governing, and Christ himself ruleth his Church by his Word. Hereby Bishops shall govern hearts, and make men yield unto them a true and willing obedience, reverencing God in them. Many in consumptions have recovered their healths by returning to their native air wherein they were born: If Episcopacy be in any declination or diminution of honour, the going back to the painfulness of the primitive Fathers in Preaching, is the only way to repair it. 4 Painful, pious, and peaceable Ministers are his principal Favourites. If he meets them in his way (yea he will make it his way to meet them) he bestoweth all grace and lustre upon them. 5 He is careful that Church-censures be justly and solemnly inflicted: namely, 1 Admonition, when the Church only chideth, but with the rod in her hand. 2 Excommunication, the Mittimus whereby the malefactor is sent to the gaolour of hell, and delivered to Satan. 3 Aggravation, whereby for his greater contempt, he is removed out of the gaol into the dungeon. 4 Penance, which is or should be inward repentance, made visible by open confession, whereby the Congregation is satisfied for the public offence given her. 5 Absolution, which fetcheth the penitent out of hell, and opens the door of heaven for him, which Excommunication had formerly locked, and Aggravation bolted against him. As much as lies in his power, he either prevents or corrects those too frequent abuses, whereby offenders are not * Acts 2.37. pricked to the heart, but let blood in the purse; and when the Court hath her costs, the Church hath no damage given her, nor any reparation for the open scandal she received by the party's offence. Let the memory of Worthy Bishop Lake ever survive, whose hand had the true seasoning of a Sermon with Law and Gospel, and who was most fatherly grave in inflicting Church-censures: Such offenders as were unhappy in deserving, were happy in doing penance in his presence. He is careful and happy in suppressing of Heresies and schisms. 6 He distinguisheth of schismatics, as physicians do of Leprous people: Some are infectious, * The Leprosy elephantiasis not infectious to the company. others not; Some are active to seduce others, others quietly enjoy their opinions in their own consciences. The latter by his mildness he easily reduceth to the truth; whereas the surgeons rigorously handling it, often breaks that bone quite off, which formerly was but out of joint: Towards the former he useth more severity, yet endeavouring first to inform him aright, before he punisheth him. To use force first before people are fairly taught the truth, is to knock a nail into a board, without wimbling a hole for it, which then either not enters, or turns crooked, or splits the wood it pierceth. He is very merciful in punishing offenders; 7 both in matters of life and livelihood, seeing in S. John's Language the same word * John. 3 17. B●os signifies both. He had rather draw tears, than blood. It was the honour of the Roman State, as yet being Pagan, * Livius lib. 1. pag. 20. In hoc gloriari licet, nulli Gentium mitiores placuisse poenas: Yea for the first seventy years (till the reign of Ancus Martius) they were without a prison. Clemency therefore in a Christian Bishop is most proper: O let not the Stars of our Church be herein turned to Comets, whose appearing in place of judicature presageth to some death or destruction. I confess that even Justice itself is a kind of mercy: But God grant that my portion of mercy be not paid me in that coin. And though the highest detestation of sin best agreeth with clergymen, yet ought they to cast a severe eye on the vice and example, and a merciful eye on the person. 8 None more forward to forgive a wrong done to himself. Worthy Archbishop * Cambd. Elizab. in Anno 1588. p. 538. Whitgift interceded to Queen Elizabeth for remitting of heavy fines laid on some of his Adversaries (learning from Christ his Master to be a mediator for them) till his importunity had angered the Queen, yea and till his importunity had pleased her again, and gave not over till he got them to be forgiven. 9 He is very careful on whom he layeth hands in Ordination; lest afterwards he hath just cause to beshrew his fingers, and with Martianus, a Bishop of Constantinople (who made Sabbatius a Jew and a turbulent man Priest) wish he had then rather laid his hand on the * Socrat. Eccles. Hist. lib. 5. cap. 20. briers, than such a man's head. For the sufficiency of Scholarship he goeth by his own eye; but for their honest life, he is guided by other men's hands, which would not so oft deceive him, were testimonials a matter of less courtesy and more conscience. For whosoever subscribes them enters into bond to God and the Church, under an heavy forfeiture, to avouch the honesty of the party commended; and, as Judah for Benjamin, they become sureties for the young man unto his father. Nor let them think to void the band and make it but a blank with that clause, so fare forth as we know, or words to the like effect: For what saith the Apostle? God is not mocked. He meddleth as little as may be with temporal matters: 10 having little skill in them, and less will to them. Not that he is unworthy to manage them, but they unworthy to be managed by him. Yea generally the most dexterous in spiritual matters are lefthanded in temporal business, and go but untowardly about them. Wherefore our Bishop, with reverend * Funeral Serm. on him, pag. 19 Andrews, meddleth little in civil affairs, being out of his profession and element. Heaven is his vocation, and therefore he counts earthly employments avocations: except in such cases which lie (as I may say) in the Marches of Divinity, and have connexion with his calling; or else when temporal matters meddle with him, so that he must rid them out of his way. Yet he rather admireth than condemneth such of his brethren, who are strengthened with that which would distract him, making the concurrence of spiritual and temporal power in them support one another, and using worldly business as their recreation to heavenly employment. If called to the Court he there doth all good offices, 11 betwixt Prince and people, striving to remove all misprisions & disaffections, & advancing unity and concord. They that think the Church may flourish when the commonwealth doth whither may as well conceive that the brains may be sound when pia mater is perished. When in the way of a confessor he privately tells his Prince of his faults, he knows by nathan's parable, to go the nearest way home by going fare about. He improves his power with his Prince for the Churches good, 12 in maintaining both true religion and the maintenance thereof; lest some pretending with pious Ezechiah to beat down the brazen serpent, the occasion of Idolatry, do indeed with sacrilegious Ahaz take away the brazen bulls from the Laver, and set it on a pavement of stone. He jointly advanceth the pains and gains, the work and wages of Ministers, which going together make a flourishing Clergy, with God's blessing, and without man's envy. 13 His mortified mind is no whit moved with the magnificent vanities of the Court: no more than a dead corpse is affected with a velvet hearse-cloth over it. He is so fare from wondering at their pomps, that though he looks daily on them, he scarce sees them, having his eyes taken up with higher objects; and only admires at such, as can admire such low matters. He is loved and feared of all; and his presence frights the Swearer either out of his oaths or into silence, and he stains all other men's lives with the clearness of his own. 14 Yet he daily prayeth God to keep him in so slippery a place. Elisha prayed that a double portion of Eliahs' Spirit might rest upon him. A Father descanteth hereon, that a double portion of grace was necessary for Elisha, who was gracious at Court, lived in a plentiful way, and favoured of the Kings of Israel; whereas Eliah lived poorly, and privately: And more wisdom is requisite to manage prosperity then affliction. 15 In his grave writings he aims at God's glory, and the church's peace, with that worthy Prelate, the second jewel of Salisbury, whose Comments and Controversies will transmit his memory to all Posterity: Whose dying pen did write of Christian Union, How Church with Church might safely keep Communion. Commend his care, although the cure do miss; The woe is ours, the happiness is his: Who finding discords daily to increase, Because he could not live, would die, in peace. He ever makes honourable mention of foreign Protestant Churches; 16 even when he differs and dissents from them. The worst he wisheth the French Church is a Protestant King: not giving the left hand of Fellowship to them, and reserving his right for some other. Cannot Christ's coat be of different colours, but also it must be of several seams? railing one on another, till these Sisters, by bastardising one another, make the Popish Church the sole heir to all truth. How often did reverend * S. G. 〈◊〉. in his life. p●●. 63, 64. Whitgift (knowing he had the fare better cheer) send a mess of meat from his own table to the Ministers of Geneva? relieving many of them by bountiful contributions. Indeed English charity to foreign Protestant Churches in some respect is payment of a debt: their children deserve to be our welcome guests, whose Grandfathers were our loving hosts in the days of Queen Mary. He is thankful to that college whence he had his education. 17 He conceived himself to hear his Mother-Colledge always speaking to him in the language of Joseph to Pharaohs Butler, * Gen. 40.14. But think on me, I pray thee, when it shall be well with thee. If he himself hath but little, the less from him is the more acceptable: A drop from a sponge is as much as a ton of water from a Marish. He bestows on it Books, or Plate, or Lands or Building; and the Houses of the Prophets rather lack watering then planting, there being enough of them, if they had enough. He is hospitable in his housekeeping according to his estate. 18 His bounty is with discretion to those that deserve it: Charity mistaken, which relieves idle people, like a dead corpse, only feeds the vermin it breeds. The rankness of his housekeeping produceth no riot in his Family. S. Paul calls a Christian Family well ordered, * Rom. 6.5. Theoph. in locum. a Church in their house. If a private man's house be a parochial, a Bishops may seem a cathedral Church, as much better as bigger, so decently all things therein are disposed. We come now to give a double Example of a godly Bishop: the first out of the Primitive times, the second out of the English Church since the Reformation, both excellent in their several ways. St Augustine the Learned and painful Bishop of Hippo, in Africa, for the space of 40 years where he died, in the 70th. Year of His Age, about the year of our Lord 430. W. marshal sculp. CHAP. 11. The life of S. AUGUSTINE. AUgustine was born in the City of Tagasta in Africa, of Gentile parentage, Patricius and Monica, though their means bore not proportion to their birth, so that the breeding of their son at Learning much weakened their estate, in so much as Romanian a noble gentleman (all the world is bound to be thankful to S. Augustine's benefactor) bountifully advanced his education. It will be needless to speak of his youth, vicious in manners and erroneous in doctrine, especially seeing he hath so largely accused himself in his Confessions. 'Tis tyranny to trample on him that prostrates himself; and whose sins God hath graciously forgotten, let no man despitefully remember. Being made a Presbyter in the Church of Hippo, this great favour was allowed him, to preach constantly, though in the presence of * Posidonius in vit. August. cap 5. Valerius the Bishop: whereas in that age to hear a Priest preach when that a Bishop was in the Church, was as great a wonder as the Moon shining at midday. Yea godly Valerius, one that could do better than he could speak, and had a better heart than tongue, (being a Grecian, and therefore not well understood of the Africans) procured Augustine in his life-time to be designed Bishop of Hippo, and to be joined * Idem cap. 8. fellow-Bishop with himself, though it was flatly against the Canons. For a Coadjutour commonly proves an hinderer, and by his envious clashing doth often dig his Partners grave with whom he is joined; besides that such a superinstallation seems an unlawful bigamy, marrying two husbands at the same time to the same Church. Yea, S. Augustine himself, afterwards understanding that this was against the Constitutions of the Church, was sorry thereat (though others thought his eminency above Canons, and his deserts his dispensation) and desiring that his ignorance herein should not misguide others, obtained that the Canons (than not so hard to be kept as known, because obscure and scattered) were compiled together and published, that the Clergy might know what they were bound to observe. Being afterwards sole Bishop, he was diligent in continual preaching, and beating down of heretics especially the Manicheans, in whose Fence-school he was formerly brought up, and therefore knew best ●● To come to his death. It happened that the Northern countries, called by * Methodius Martyr & Paul Diacon. some Vagina gentium, the Sheath of people (though more properly they may be termed, Ensis dei, the Sword of God) sent forth the Vandals, Alban, and Goths, into the Southern parts, God punishing the pride of the Roman Empire to be confounded by Barbarous enemies. Out of Spain they came into Africa, and massacred all before them. The neighbouring villages like little children did fly to Hippo the mother-City for secure: thirteen months was Hippo besieged by the Goths, and S. Augustine being therein prayed to God either to remove the siege, or to give the Christians therein patience to suffer, or to take him out of this miserable world, which he obtained, and died in the third month of the siege. Falling very sick (besides the disease of age and grief) he lay languishing a pretty time, and took order that none should come to him save when his meat was brought, or Physicians visited him, that so he might have elbow-room the more freely to put off the clothes of his mortality. The motion of Piety in him (by custom now made natural) was velocior in fine, daily breathing out most pious Ejaculations. He died intestate, not for lack of time to make a will, but means to bestow, having formerly passed his soul to God, whilst his body of course bequeathed itself to the earth. As for the books of his own making, a treasure beyond estimation, he carefully consigned them to several Libraries. He died in the seventy sixth year of his age, having lived a Bishop almost forty years. Thus a Saint of God, like an oak, may be cut down in a moment; but how many years was he a growing! Not long after his death the City of Hippo was sacked by the Goths, it being no wonder if Troy was taken, when the Palladium was first fetched away from it. NICHOLAS RIDLEY Bishop of LONDON. He died a constant Martyr for the Truth, and was burnt at Oxford the 16th of Octob: 1555. W marshal sculp: CHAP. 11. The life of Bishop RIDLEY. NIcholas Ridley born in the bishopric of Duresme, but descended from the ancient and worshipful family of the Ridleys of Willimotes-wike in Northumberland. He was brought up in Pembroke-hall in Cambridge, where he so profited in general Learning, that he was chosen Fellow of the college, and Anno 1533 was proctor of the University. At which time two Oxford men, George Throgmorton, and John Ashwell, came to Cambridge, and in the public Schools challenged any to dipsute with them on these questions, An Ius civil sit medicina praestantius? An Mulier condemnata, bis ruptis laqueis, sit tertio suspendenda? It seems they were men of more brow than brain, being so ambitious to be known, that they had rather be hissed down then not come upon the stage. Sure Oxford afforded as many more able disputants, as civil Law yielded more profound and needful questions. Throgmorton had the fortune of daring men, to be worsted, being so pressed by John Redman and Nicholas * Caius de Antiquit. Cant. Acad. p. 19.20. Ridley the opponents, that his second refused at all to dispute. Indeed an University is an only fit match for an University; and any private man who in this Nature undertakes a whole body, being of necessity put to the worst, deserves not Phaeton's Epitaph, magnis, but stultis tamen excidit ausis. And though * Brian Twine pag. 336. one objects, Neminem Cantabrigiensium constat Oxonienses unquam ad certamen provocasse; yet less learning cannot be inferred from more modesty. The best is, the two Sisters so well agree together that they only contend to surpass each other in mutual kindness, and forbidding all duels betwixt their children, make up their joint forces against the common foe of them and true Religion. He was after chosen Master of Penbroke Hall, and kept the same whilst Bishop of Rochester and London, till outed in the first of Queen Marie. Not that he was covetous to hold his place in the college, but the college ambitious to hold him; as who would willingly part with a jewel. He was in good esteem with Henry the eighth, and in better with pious King Edward the sixth, and was generally beloved of all the Court, being one of an handsome person, comely presence, affable speech, and courteous behaviour. But before I go further, Reader, pardon a digression, and yet is it none, for 'tis necessary. I have within the narrow scantling of my experimental remembrance observed strange alteration in the world's valuing of those learned men which lived in that age; and take it plainly without welt or guard, for he that smarts for speaking truth hath a plaster in his own conscience. When I was a child I was possessed with a reverend esteem of them, as most holy and pious men, dying Martyrs in the days of Queen Marie for profession of the truth; which opinion having from my Parents taken quiet possession of my soul, they must be very forcible reasons which eject it. Since that time they have been much cried down in the mouths of many, who making a Coroners inquest upon their death, have found them little better than Felons de se, dying in their own blood, for a mere formality, de modo, of the manner of the Presence, and a Sacrifice in the Sacrament, who might easily with one small distinction have knocked off their fetters, & saved their lives. By such the Coronet of martyrdom is plucked off from their memories; and others more moderate equally part their death betwixt their enemy's cruelty, and their own over-forwardnesse. Since that, one might have expected that these worthy men should have been re-estated in their former honour, whereas the contrary hath come to pass. For some who have an excellent faculty in uncharitable Synecdoches, to condemn a life for an action, & taking advantage of some faults in them do much condemn them. And * Author of the book lately printed of Causes hindering Reformation in England, lib. 1. pag. 10. one lately hath traduced them with such language, as neither beseemed his parts (whosoever he was) that spoke it, nor their piety of whom it was spoken. If pious Latimer, whose bluntness was incapable of flattery, had his simplicity abused with false informations, he is called another doctor Shaw, to divulge in his Sermon forged accusations. Cranmer and Ridley for some failings styled, the common stales to countenance with their prostituted gravities every politic fetch which was then on foot, as oft as the potent Statists pleased to employ them. pag. 11. And, as it follows not fare after, Bishop Cranmer, one of King Henry's Executours, and the other Bishops, none refusing (lest they should resist the Duke of Northumberland) could find in their consciences to set their hands to the disenabling and defeating of the Princess Marie, etc. Where Christian ingenuity might have prompted unto him to have made an intimation, that Cranmer (with pious Justice Hales in Kent) was last and least guilty, much refusing to subscribe; and his long resisting deserved as well to be mentioned, as his yielding at last. Yea, that very Verse, which doctor Smith at the burning of Ridley used against him, is by the foresaid author (though not with so full a blow, with a slenting stroke) applied to those Martyrs, A man may give his body to be burnt, and yet have not charity. Thus the prices of Martyrs ashes rise and fall in Smithfield market. However their real worth floats not with people's fancies, no more than a rock in the sea rises and falls with the tide: S. Paul is still S. Paul, though the Lycaonians now would sacrifice to him, and presently after would sacrifice him: These Bishops, Ministers, and Lay-people, which were put to death in Queen Mary's days, were worthy Saints of God, holy and godly men, but had their faults, failings, and imperfections. Had they not been men they had not burnt; yea had they not been more than men (by God's assistance) they had not burnt. Every true Christian should, but none but strong Christians will, die at the stake. But to return to Ridley: One of the greatest things objected against him, was his counsel to King Edward (which the good Prince washed away with his tears) about tolerating the mass for Princess Mary, at the intercession of Charles the fifth Emperor, which how great it was, let the indifferent party give judgement, when the * Hayward's Edward sixth pag. 291. Historian hath given his evidence, The Bishops, of Canterbury, London, Rochester, gave their opinion, that to give licence to sin, was sin, but to connive at sin, might be allowed, in case it were neither too long, nor without hope of reformation. Another fault, wherewith he was charged, was that woeful and unhappy discord betwixt him and reverend Bishop Hooper, about the wearing of some episcopal garments at his consecration (than in use) which Ridley pressed, and Hooper refused with equal violence, as being too many, rather loading then gracing him; and so affectedly grave, that they were light again. All we will say is this, that when worthy men fall out, only one of them may be faulty at the first, but if such strifes continue long, commonly both become guilty: But thus God's diamonds often cut one another, and good men cause afflictions to good men. It was the policy of the * Arist. polit. lib. 2. cap. 7. Lacedæmonians always to send two ambassadors together, which disagreed amongst themselves, that so mutually they might have an eye on the actions each of other: Sure I am that in those ambassadors, the Ministers, which God sendeth to men, God suffereth great discords betwixt them, (Paul with Barnabas, Jerome with Ruffin, and Augustine, and the like) perchance because each may be more cautious and wary of his behaviour in the view of the other. We may well behold men's weakness in such dissensions, but better admire God's strength and wisdom in ordering them to his glory, and his children's good. Sure it is, Ridley and Hooper were afterwards cordially reconciled; and let not their discords pierce farther than their reconciliation: The worst is, men's eyes are never made sound with the clearness, but often are made sore with the bleernesse of other men's eyes in their company. The virtues of Saints are not so attractive of our imitation, as their vices and infirmities are prone to infect. * Hayward Edward 6. p. 407. & sequent. Ridley was very gracious with King Edward the sixth, and by a Sermon he preached before him so wrought upon his pious disposition, whose Princely charity rather wanted a director then a persuader, that the King at his motion gave to the city of London, 1 Greyfriers, now called Christ-Church, for impotent, fatherless, decrepit people by age or nature to be educated or maintained. 2 S. bartholomew's near Smithfield, for poor by faculty, as wounded soldiers, diseased and sick persons to be cured and relieved. 3 Bridewell, the ancient Mansion of the English Kings, for the poor by idleness or unthriftynesse, as riotous spenders, vagabonds, loiterers, strumpets to be corrected and reduced to good order. I like that emblem of Charity which * Fr. Quartes Enchirid. pag. 1. one hath expressed in a naked child, giving honey to a Bee without wings; only I would have one thing added, namely holding a whip in the other hand to drive away the drones: So that King Edward's bounty was herein perfect and complete. To return to Ridley: His whole life was a letter written full of learning and religion, whereof his death was the seal. Brought he was with Cranmer and Latimer to Oxford to dispute in the days of Queen Mary, though before a syllogism was formed, their deaths were concluded on, and as afterwards came to pass, being burnt the sixteenth of October Anno 1555. in the ditch over against Balliol college. He came to the * Fox. Acts Mon: An: 1555. Octob. stake in a fair black gown furred and faced with foins, a Tippet of velvet, furred likewise, about his neck, a velvet nightcap upon his head, and a corner'd cap upon the same. Doctor Smith preached a Sermon at their burning; a Sermon which had nothing good in it but the text (though misapplyed) and the shortness, being not above a quarter of an hour long. Old Hugh Latimer was Ridleys' partner at the stake, sometimes Bishop of Worcester, who crauled thither af●er him, one who had lost more learning than many ever had, who flout at his plain Sermons, though his downright style was as necessary in that ignorant age, as it would be ridiculous in ours. Indeed he condescended to people's capacity; and many men unjustly count those low in learning, who indeed do but stoop to their auditors. Let me see any of our sharp Wits do that with the edge, which his bluntness did with the back of the knife, and persuade so many to restitution of ill-gotten goods. Though he came after Ridley to the stake, he got before him to heaven: his body, made tinder by age, was no sooner touched by the fire, but instantly this old Simeon had his Nunc dimittis, and brought the news to heaven that his brother was following after. But Ridley suffered with fare more pain, the fire about him being not well made: And yet one would think that age should be skilful in making such bonfires, as being much practised in them. The Gunpowder that was given him did him little service, and his Brother-in-law, out of desire to rid him out of pain, increased it, (great grief will not give men leave to be wise with it) heaping fuel upon him to no purpose; so that neither the faggots which his enemy's anger, nor his brother's good will cast upon him, made the fire to burn kindly. In like manner, not much before, his dear friend Master * See Mr Fox Acts and Mon. on Hoopers' death. Hooper suffered with great torment; the wind (which too often is the bellows of great fires) blowing it away from him once, or twice. Of all the Martyrs in those days, these two endured most pain, it being true that each of them, Quaerebat in ignibus ignes: And still he did desire, For fire in midst of fire. Both desiring to burn, and yet both their upper parts were but confessors, when their lower parts were Martyrs, and burnt to ashes: Thus God, where he hath given the stronger faith, he layeth on the stronger pain. And so we leave them going up to Heaven, like Eliah, in a chariot of fire. CHAP. 12. The true Nobleman. HE is a Gentleman in a Text Letter, because bred, and living in an higher and larger way. Conceive him when young brought up at School, in ludo literario, where he did not take ludus to himself, and leave literarius to others, but seriously applied himself to learning, and afterwards coming to his estate, thus behaves himself. Maxim 1 Goodness sanctifies his greatness, and greatness supports his goodness. He improves the upper ground whereon he stands, thereby to do God the more glory. 2 He counts not care for his countries' good to be beneath his state. Because he is a great pillar, shall he therefore bear the less weight? never meddling with matters of Justice. Can this be counted too low for a Lord, which is high enough for a King? our Nobleman freely serves his country, counting his very work a sufficient reward. (As by our * Statute 14. of Ric. 2. c. 11. Laws no Duke, Earl, Baron, or Baronet, though Justices of Peace, may take any wages at the Sessions.) Yea he detesteth all gainful ways, which have the least blush of dishonour: For the Merchant Nobility of Florence and Venice (how highly soever valued by themselves) pass in other countries with loss and abatement of repute; as if the scarlet robes of their honour had a stain of the stammel die in them. 3 He is careful in the thrifty managing of his estate. Gold, though the most solid and heavy of metals, yet may be beaten out so thin, as to be the lightest and slightest of all things. Thus Nobility, though in itself most honourable, may be so attenuated through the smallness of means as thereby to grow neglected. Which makes our Nobleman to practice Solomon's precept, * Prov. 27.23. Be diligent to know the state of thy flocks, and look well to thine herds; for the Crown doth not endure to every generation. If not the Crown much less the Coronet; and good husbandry may as well stand with great honour, as breadth may consist with height. If a weak estate be left him by his ancestors, 4 he seeks to repair it, by ways thrifty, yet noble: as by travelling, sparing abroad, till his state at home may outgrow debts and pensions: Hereby he gains experience, and saves expense, sometimes living private, sometimes showing himself at an half light, and sometimes appearing like himself as occasion requires; or else by betaking himself to the wars: war cannot but in thankfulness grace him with an Office, which graceth her with his person; or else by warlike sea-adventures wisely undertaken, and providently managed: otherwise, this course hath emptied more full, then filled empty purses, and many thereby have brought a Galeon to a galley; or lastly by match with wealthy Heirs, wherein he is never so attentive to his profit, but he listens also to his honour. In proportion to his means, 5 he keeps a liberal house. This much takes the affections of country people, whose love is much warmed in a good kitchen, and turneth much on the hinges of a buttery-doore often open. Francis Russell, second Earl of Bedford of that surname, was so bountiful to the poor, that Queen Elizabeth would merrily complain of him, that he made all the beggars: sure 'tis more honourable for Noblemen to make beggars by their liberality, then by their oppression. But our Nobleman is especially careful to see all things discharged which he taketh up. When the corpse of Thomas Howard second Duke of Norfolk were carried to be interred in the Abbey of Thetford, Anno 1524. no person could demand of him one * Weat●ers fun. Mon. p. 839. groat for debt, or restitution for any injury done by him. 6 His servants are best known by the coat and cognizance of their civil behaviour. He will not entertain such ruffianlike men, who know so well who is their Master, that they know not who they are themselves, and think their Lord's reference is their innocence, to bear them out in all unlawful actions. But our Lord's house is the college wherein the children of the neighbouring Gentry and Yeomanry are bred, and there taught by serving of him to rule themselves. 7 He hateth all oppression of his tenants and neighbours; disdaining to crush a mean Gentleman for a meaner offence; and counts it no conquest but an execution from him, who on his side hath the odds of height of place, strength of arm, and length of weapon. But as the Proverb saith, No grass grows where the grand Seignieurs horse sets his feet; so too often nothing but grass grows where some Great men set their footing, no towns or tillage, for all must be turned into depopulating pastures, and commons into enclosures. Nigh the city of Lunenberg in Germany flowed a plentiful salt spring, till such time as the rich men, engrossing all the profit to themselves, would not suffer the poor to make any salt thereof; whereupon God and Nature being offended at their covetousness, the spring * Morisons travels, chap. 1. Part. 1. pag. 5. Yet afterward upon readmission of the poor to it it ran again. ceased, and ran no more for a time. Thus hath God's punishment overtaken many great men, and stopped his blessing towards them, which formerly flowed plentifully unto them, for that they have wronged poor people of their commonage, which of right belonged unto them. 8 In his own pleasures he is careful of his neighbour's profit. Though his horses cannot have wings like his hawks to spoil no grass or grain as he passeth, yet he is very careful to make as little waste as possible may be: his horses shall not trample on loaves of bread as he hunteth, so that whilst he seeks to gather a twig for himself he breaks the staff of the commonwealth. All the country are his Retainers in love and observance. 9 When they come to wait on him, they leave not their hearts at home behind them, but come willingly to tender their respects. The holding up of his hand is as good as the displaying of a banner; thousands will flock to him, but it must be for the Kings and countries' service. For he knows that he who is more than a Lord, if his cause be loyal, is less than a private man, if it be otherwise: with S. * 2. Cor. 13.8. Paul, he can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth. Thus Queen Elizabeth christened the youngest daughter of Gilbert Talbot Earl of Shrewsbury (now Countess of Arundel) Aletheia, Truth, out of true * Vincents discov. of Bro●ks errors, p. 470. consideration and judgement that the house of the Talbots was ever loyal to the Crown. Some privileges of Noblemen he endeavours to deserve: 10 namely such privileges as are completely Noble, that so his merits as well as the Law should allow them unto him. He conceives this word, On mine Honour, wraps up a great deal in it; which unfolded and then measured, will be found to be a large attestation, and no less than an eclipticall oath, calling God to witness, who hath bestowed that Honour upon him. And seeing the State is so tender of him, that he shall not be forced to swear in matters of moment in Courts of Justice, he is careful not to swear of his own accord in his sports and pleasures. Other privileges of Noblemen he labours not to have need of, namely such as presuppose a fault, are but honourable penalties, and excuse from shameful punishments. Thus he is not to be bound to the * Lamb. justice of peace pag. ●3. peace. And what needs he; who hath the peace always bound to him, being of his own accord always careful to preserve it, and of so noble a disposition, he will never be engaged in any brawls or contentions. To give an instance of such a Nobleman seems to be needless, hoping that at this time in one city of this Realm, and in one room of that city, many such Noblemen are to be found together. CHAP. 13. The Court-Lady. TO describe an Holy State without a virtuous Lady therein, were to paint out a year without a Spring: we come therefore to her Character. Maxim 1 She sets not her face so often by her glass, as she composeth her soul by God's word. Which hath all the excellent qualities of a glass indeed. 1 It is clear: in all points necessary to Salvation, except to such whose eyes are blinded. 2 It is true: not like those false glasses some Ladies dress themselves by. And how common is flattery at Court, when even glasses have learned to be parasites? 3 It is large; presenting all spots Cap-a-pe, behind and before, within and without. 4 It is durable: though in one sense it is broken too often (when Gods Laws are neglected) yet it will last to break them that break it, and one tittle thereof shall not fall to the ground. 5. This glass hath power to smooth the wrinkles, cleanse the spots, and mend the faults it discovers. 2 She walks humbly before God in all religious duties. Humbly: For she well knows that the strongest Christian is like the city of Rome, which was never besieged but it was taken, and the best Saint without God's assistance would be as often foiled as tempted. She is most constant and diligent at her hours of private prayer. Queen Katherine Dowager never kneeled on a * Sande●s. de Schism. Anglic. lib. 1. pag. 5. cushion when she was at her devotions: This matters not at all; our Lady is more careful of her heart then of her knees, that her soul be settled aright. She is careful and most tender of her credit and reputation. 3 There is a tree in * Doctor Heglens' Microces. pag. 783. Mexicana which is so exceedingly tender, that a man cannot touch any of his branches but it withers presently. A Lady's credit is of equal niceness, a small touch may wound and kill it; which makes her very cautious what company she keeps. The Latin tongue seems somewhat injurious to the feminine sex; for whereas therein Amicus is a friend, Amica always signifies a Sweetheart, as if their sex in reference to men were not capable of any other kind of familiar friendship but in way to marriage, which makes our Lady avoid all privacy with suspicious company. Yet is she not more careful of her own credit then of God's glory; 4 and stands up valiantly in the defence thereof. She hath read how at the Coronation of King Richard the second, Dame * She claimed the place, but her husband performed the office, Lelunds Colle. Tit. 1. pag. 299. Margaret Dimock, wife to Sr John Dimock, came into the Court and claimed the place to be the King's Champion, by the virtue of the tenure of her manor of Scrinelby in Lincolnshire, to challenge and defy all such as opposed the King's right to the Crown. But if our Lady hears any speaking disgracefully of God or Religion, she counts herself bound by her tenure (whereby she holds possession of grace here, and reversion of glory hereafter) to assert and vindicate the honour of the King of Heaven, whose Champion she professeth to be. One may be a lamb in private wrongs, but in hearing general affronts to goodness, they are asses which are not lions. She is pitiful and bountiful to people in distress. 5 We read how a daughter of the Duke of Exeter invented a brake or cruel rack to torment people withal, to which purpose it was long reserved and often used in the Tower of London, and commonly called (was it not fit so pretty a babe should bear her mother's name?) The * Vid. stows Chron. in the reign of King Edward the fourth. Duke of Exeters' daughter. Me thinks the finding out of a salve to ease poor people in pain had born better proportion to her ladyship then to have been the inventor of instruments of cruelty. 6 She is a good scholar, and well learned in useful authors. Indeed as in purchases an house is valued at nothing, because it returneth no profit, and requires great charges to maintain it; so for the same reasons, Learning in a woman is but little to be prized. But as for great Ladies, who ought to be a confluence of all rarities and perfections, some Learning in them is not only useful but necessary. 7 In discourse her words are rather fit then fine, very choice and yet not chosen. Though her language be not gaudy, yet the plainness thereof pleaseth, it is so proper, and handsomely put on. Some having a set of fine phrases will hazard an impertinency to use them all, as thinking they give full satisfaction for dragging in the matter by head and shoulders, if they dress it in quaint expressions. Others often repeat the same things: the Platonic year of their discourses being not above three days long, in which term all the same matter returns over again, threadbare talk ill suiting with the variety of their clothes. 8 She affects not the vanity of foolish fashions; but is decently apparelled according to her state and condition. He that should have guessed the bigness of Alexander's soldiers by their shields left in India, would much overproportion their true greatness. But what a vast overgrown creature would some guess a woman to be, taking his aim by the multitude and variety of clothes and ornaments, which some of them use: insomuch as the ancient Latins called a woman's wardrobe Mundus, a World, wherein notwithstanding was much terra incognita then undiscovered, but since found out by the curiosity of modern Fashion-mongers. We find a map of this world drawn by God's Spirit, Isaiah the third, wherein one and twenty women's ornaments (all superfluous) are reckoned up, which at this day are much increased. The * Isaiah. 3.18. moons, there mentioned, which they wore on their heads, may seem since grown to the full in the luxury of after-ages. She is contented with that beauty which God hath given her. 9 If very handsome, no whit the more proud, but fare the more thankful: If unhandsome, she labours to better it in the virtues of her mind, that what is but plain cloth without may be rich plush within. Indeed such natural defects as hinder her comfortable serving of God in her calling may be amended by art; and any member of the body being defective, may thereby be lawfully supplied. Thus glasse-eyes may be used, though not for seeing, for sightliness. But our Lady detesteth all adulterate complexions, finding no precedent thereof in the Bible save one, and her so bad, that Ladies would blush through their paint to make her the pattern of their imitation. Yet are there many that think the grossest fault in painting is to paint grossly (making their faces with thick daubing not only new pictures, but new statues) and that the greatest sin therein, is to be discovered. In her marriage she principally respects virtue and religion, 10 and next that, other accommodations, as we have * Vid. 3. Book chap of Marriage. formerly discoursed of. And she is careful in match not to bestow herself unworthily beneath her own degree to an ignoble person, except in case of necessity. Thus the Gentlewomen in * And● Favin in his theatre of Honour, 1. Book, chap. the 6. champagne in France some three hundred years since were enforced to marry Yeomen and Farmers, because all the Nobility in that country were slain in the wars in the two voyages of King Lewis to Palestine: and thereupon ever since by custom and privilege the Gentlewomen of champagne and Brye ennoble their husbands and give them honour in marrying them, how mean soever before. 11 Though pleasantly affected she is not transported with Court-delights: as in their stately Masques and Pageants. Seeing Princes cares are deeper than the cares of private men, it is fit their recreations also should be greater, that so their mirth may reach the bottom of their sadness: yea God allows to Princes a greater latitude of pleasure. He is no friend to the tree, that strips it of the bark; neither do they mean well to Majesty, which would deprive it of outward shows, and State-solemnities, which the servants of Princes may in loyalty and respect present to their sovereign; however, our Lady by degrees is brought from delighting in such Masques, only to be contented to see them, and at last (perchance) could desire to be excused from that also. 12 Yet in her reduced thoughts she makes all the sport she hath seen earnest to herself: It must be a dry flower indeed out of which this bee sucks no honey: they are the best origen's who do allegorise all earthly vanities into heavenly truths. When she remembreth how suddenly the Scene in the Masque was altered (almost before moment itself could take notice of it) she considereth, how quickly mutable all things are in this world, God ringing the changes on all accidents, and making them tuneable to his glory: The lively representing of things so curiously, that Nature herself might grow jealous of Art, in outdoing her, minds our Lady to make sure work with her own soul, seeing hypocrisy may be so like to sincerity. But O what a wealthy exchequer of beauties did she there behold, several faces most different, most excellent, (so great is the variety even in bests) what a rich mine of jewels above ground, all so brave, so costly! To give Court-masques their due, of all the bubbles in this world they have the greatest variety of fine colours. But all is quickly ended: this is the spite of the world, if ever she affordeth fine ware, she always pincheth it in the measure, and it lasts not long: But oh, thinks our Lady, how glorious a place is Heaven, where there are joys for evermore. If an herd of kine should meet together to fancy and define happiness, they would place it to consist in fine pastures, sweet grass, clear water, shadowy groves, constant summer, but if any winter, then warm shelter and dainty hay, with company after their kind, counting these low things the highest happiness, because their conceit can reach no higher. Little better do the Heathen Poets describe Heaven, paving it with pearl, and roofing it with stars, filling it with Gods and Goddesses, and allowing them to drink (as if without it no poet's Paradise) Nectar and Ambrosia; Heaven indeed being Poetarum dedecus, the shame of Poets, and the disgrace of all their Hyperboles, falling as fare short of truth herein, as they go beyond it in other Fables. However the sight of such glorious earthly spectacles advantageth our Lady's conceit by infinite multiplication thereof to consider of Heaven. She reads constant lectures to herself of her own mortality. 13 To smell to a turf of fresh earth is wholesome for the body; no less are thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul. Earth thou art, to earth thou shalt return: The sight of death when it cometh will neither be so terrible to her, nor so strange, who hath formerly often beheld it in her serious meditations. With * job. 17.14. Job she saith to the worm, Thou art my sister: If fair Lady's scorn to own the worms their kindred in this life, their kindred will be bold to challenge them when dead in their graves: for when the soul (the best perfume of the body) is departed from it, it becomes so noisome a carcase, that should I make a description of the loathsomeness thereof, some dainty dames would hold their noses in reading it. To conclude: We read how Henry a german Prince was admonished by revelation to search for a writing in an old wall, which should nearly concern him, wherein he found only these two words written, * Surius in vita Sancti Henr. July 14 & Baronius in Anno 1007. POST SEX, AFTER SIX. Whereupon Henry conceived that his death was foretold, which after six days should ensue, which made him pass those days in constant preparation for the same. But finding the six days passed without the effect he expected, he successively persevered in his godly resolutions six weeks, six months, six years, and on the first day of the seventh year the prophecy was fulfilled, though otherwise then he interpreted it; for thereupon he was chosen Emperor of Germany, having before gotten such an habit of piety that he persisted in his religious course for ever after. Thus our Lady hath so inur'd herself all the days of her appointed time to wait till her change cometh, that expecting it every hour, she is always provided for that, than which nothing is more certain or uncertain. JANE grey proclaimed Queen of England wife to the Lord GILFORD DUDLEY. She was beheaded on Tower-hill in London February the 12. 1553. at 18 years of Age. W.M. sculp CHAP. 14. The life of Lady Jane GREY. JAne Grey, eldest daughter of Henry Grey marquis of Dorset, and Duke of Suffolk, by Francis Brandon eldest daughter of Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk, and Mary his wife youngest daughter to King Henry the seventh, was by her parents bred according to her high birth in Religion and Learning. They were no whit indulgent to her in her childhood, but extremely severe, more than needed to so sweet a temper; for what need iron instruments to bow wax? But as the sharpest winters (correcting the rankness of the earth) cause the more healthful and fruitful summers; so the harshness of her breeding compacted her soul to the greater patience and piety, so that afterwards she proved the miroir of her age, and attained to be an excellent Scholar through the teaching of Mr Elmer her Master. Once Mr Roger Ascham, coming to wait on her at broadgates in Leicestershire, found her in her chamber reading * Ascham's Schoolmaster, lib. 1. fol. 10. Phoedon-Platonis in Greek, with as much delight as some Gentleman would have read a merry tale in Bocchace, Whilst the Duke her father with the Duchess and all their household were hunting in the Park: He asked of her, how she could lose such pastime? who smiling answered, I wisse all the sport in the Park is but the shadow of what pleasure I find in this book, adding moreover, that one of the greatest blessings God ever gave her, was in sending her sharp parents, and a gentle Schoolmaster, which made her take delight in nothing so much as in her studies. About this time John Dudley Duke of Northumberland projected for the English Crown: But being too low to reach it in his own person, having no advantage of royal birth, a match was made betwixt Guildford his fourth son, and this Lady Jane; the Duke hoping so to reign in his daughter-in-law, on whom King Edward the sixth by will, passing by his own sisters, had entailed the Crown: And not long after that godly King, who had some defects, but few faults (and those rather in his age then person) came to his grave: it being uncertain whether he went, or was sent thither. If the latter be true, the crying of this Saint under the Altar, beneath which he was buried in King Henry's chapel (without any other monument, then that of his own virtues) hath been heard long since for avenging his blood. Presently after Lady Jane was proclaimed Queen of England. 1553 She lifted not up her least finger to put the Diadem on herself, but was only contented to sit still, whilst others endeavoured to Crown her; or rather was so fare from biting at the bait of Sovereignty, that unwillingly she opened her mouth to receive it. Then was the Duke of Northumberland made general of an Army, and sent into Suffolk to suppress the Lady Marie, who there gathered men to claim the Crown. This Duke was appointed out of the policy of his friend-seeming enemies for that employment: For those who before could not endure the scorching heat of his displeasure at the counsel-table, durst afterwards oppose him, having gotten the screen of London-walls betwixt him and them. They also stinted his journeys every day (thereby appointing the steps by which he was to go down to his own grave) that he should march on very slowly, which caused his confusion. For lingering doth tyre out treacherous designs, which are to be done all on a sudden, and gives breath to loyalty to recover itself. His army like a sheep left part of his fleece on every bush it came by, at every stage and corner some conveying themselves from him, till his soldiers were washed away before any storm of war fell upon them. Only some few, who were chained to the Duke by their particular engagements, and some great Persons hopeless to conceal themselves, as being too big for a cover, stuck fast unto him. Thus those enterprises need a strong hand which are thrown against the bias of people's hearts and consciences. And not long after the Norfolk and Suffolk Protestant Gentry (Loyalty always lodgeth in the same breast with true Religion) proclaimed and set up Queen Marie, who got the Crown by Our Father, and held it by Pater noster. Then was the late Queen, now Lady Jane Grey, brought from a Queen to a prisoner, and committed to the Tower. She made misery itself amiable by her pious and patiented behaviour: Adversity, her night-clotheses, becoming her as well as her day-dressing, by reason of her pious deportment. During her imprisonment many moved her to alter her religion, and especially Mr Fecnam sent unto her by Queen Mary: but how wisely and religiously she answered him, I refer the Reader to Mr Fox, * Acts & Monum. pag 1419. & deinceps. where it is largely recorded. And because I have mentioned that Book, wherein this Lady's virtues are so highly commended, I am not ignorant that of late great disgrace hath been thrown on that author, and his worthy Work, as being guilty of much falsehood: chief because sometimes he makes Popish doctors, well known to be rich in learning, to reason very poorly, and the best Fencers of their Schools worsted and put out of their play by some country poor Protestants. But let the cavillers hereat know, that it is a great matter to have the odds of the weapon, God's word on their side; not to say any thing of supernatural assistance given them. Sure for the main, his Book is a worthy work (wherein the Reader may rather leave then lack) and seems to me, like Aetna, always burning, whilst the smoke hath almost put out the eyes of the adverse party, and these Fox's firebrands have brought much annoyance to the Romish Philistines. But it were a miracle if in so voluminous a work there were nothing to be justly reproved; so great a pomegranate not having any rotten kernel must only grow in paradise. And though perchance he held the beam at the best advantage for the Protestant party to weigh down, yet generally he is a true Writer, and never wilfully deceiveth, though he may sometimes be unwillingly deceived. To return to the Lady Jane: Though Qu●en Marie of her own disposition was inclined finally to pardon her, yet necessity of State was such, as she must be put to death. Some report her to have been with child when she was beheaded (cruelty to cut down the tree with blossoms on it) and that that which hath saved the life of many women hastened her death; but God only knows the truth hereof. On Tower-hill she most patiently, 1553. Feb. 12. Christianly, and constantly yielded to God her soul, which by a bad way went to the best end. On whom the foresaid author (whence the rest of her life may be supplied) bestows these verses, Nescio tu quibus es, Lector, lecturus ocellis: Hoc scio, quod siccis scribere non potui. What eyes thou readst with, Reader, know I not: Mine were not dry, when I this story wrote. She had the innocency of childhood, the beauty of youth, the solidity of middle, the gravity of old age, and all at eighteen: the birth of a Princess, the learning of a Clerk, the life of a Saint, yet the death of a malefactor, for her parents offences. I confess, I never read of any canonised Saint of her name, a thing whereof some Papists are so scrupulous, that they count it an unclean and unhallowed thing to be of a name whereof never any Saint was: which made that great Jesuit Arthur Faunt (as his * Burton of Leicestershire pag. 105. kinsman tell's us) change his Christian name to Laurence. But let this worthy Lady pass for a Saint; and let all great Ladies, which bear her name, imitate her virtues, to whom I wish her inward holiness, but fare more outward happiness. Yet lest goodness should be discouraged by this Lady's infelicity, we will produce another example, which shall be of a fortunate virtue. ELIZABETH Queen of England. She died at Richmond the 24th of March 1602. in the 44th year of Her reign and 70th of Her Life. W marshal Sculp: CHAP. 15. The life of Queen ELISABETH. WE intermeddle not with her description as she was a sovereign Prince, too high for our pen, and performed by others already, though not by any done so fully, but that still room is left for the endeavours of Posterity to add thereunto. We consider her only as she was a worthy Lady, her private virtues rendering her to the imitation, and her public to the admiration of all. Her royal birth by her father's side doth comparatively make her Mother-descent seem low, which otherwise considered in itself was very noble and honourable. As for the bundle of scandalous aspersions by some cast on her birth, they are best to be buried without once * See these slanders plainly confuted in Anti-Sander. Dialog. 2. pag. 125. & deinceps. opening of them. For as the basest rascal will presume to miscall the best Lord, when fare enough out of his hearing; so slanderous tongues think they may run riot in railing on any, when once got out of the distance of time, and reach of confutation. But Majesty which dyeth not will not suffer itself to be so abused, seeing the best assurance which living Princes have, that their memories shall be honourably continued, is founded (next to their own deserts) in the maintaining of the unstained reputation of their predecessors. Yea divine Justice seems herein to be a compurgatour of the parents of Queen Elizabeth, in that Nicholas Sanders, a Popish Priest, the first raiser of these wicked reports, was accidentally famished as he roved up and down in Ireland; either because it was just he should be sterved that formerly surfeited with lying, or because that island out of a natural antipathy against poisonous creatures would not lend life to so venomous a slanderer. Under the reign of her Father, and Brother King Edward the sixth, (who commonly called her his Sister Temperance) she lived in a Princely fashion. But the case was altered with her when her Sister Mary came to the Crown, who ever looked upon her with a jealous eye and frowning face: chief, because of the difference betwixt them in religion. For though Queen Mary is said of herself not so much as to have barked, yet she had under her those who did more than by't; and rather her religion then disposition was guilty in countenancing their cruelty by her authority. This antipathy against her Sister Elizabeth was increased with the remembrance how Katherine Dowager, Queen Mary's Mother, was justled out of the bed of Henry the eighth by Anna Bullen, Mother to Queen Elizabeth: so that these two Sisters were born, as I may say, not only in several but opposite horizons, so that the elevation and bright appearing of the one inferred the necessary obscurity and depression of the other; & still Qu. Mary was troubled with this fit of the Mother, which incensed her against this her half Sister. To which two grand causes of opposition, this third may also be added, because not so generally known, though in itself of lesser consequence. Queen Mary had released Edward Courtney Earl of Devonshire out of the Tower, where long he had been detained prisoner, a Gentleman of a beautiful body, sweet nature, and royal descent, intending him, as it was generally conceived, to be an husband for herself. For when the said Earl petitioned the Queen for leave to travel she advised him rather to marry, ensuring him that no Lady in the land, how high soever, would refuse him for an husband; and urging him to make his choice where he pleased, she pointed herself out unto him as plainly as might stand with the modesty of a maid, and Majesty of a Queen. Hereupon the young Earl (whether because that his long durance had some influence on his brain, or that naturally his face was better than his head, or out of some private fancy and affection to the Lady Elizabeth, or out of loyal bashfulness, not presuming to climb higher, but expecting to be called up) is said to have requested the Queen for leave to marry her Sister the Lady Elizabeth, unhappy that his choice either went so high or no higher: For who could have spoken worse Treason against Mary (though not against the Queen) then to prefer her Sister before her? and she, innocent Lady, did afterwards dearly pay the score of this Earls indiscretion. For these reason's Lady Elizabeth was closely kept and narrowly sifted all her sister's reign, Sr Bedenifield her keeper using more severity towards her than his place required, yea more than a good man should, or a wiseman would have done. No doubt the least tripping of her foot should have cost her the losing of her head, if they could have caught her to be privy to any conspiracies. This Lady as well deserved the title of Elizabeth the confessor as ever Edward her ancient predecessor did. Mr Ascham was a good Schoolmaster to her, but affliction was a better, so that it is hard to say whether she was more happy in having a Crown so soon, or in having it no sooner, till affliction had first laid in her a low (and therefore sure) foundation of humility, for highness to be afterwards built thereupon. We bring her now from the cross to the Crown; and come we now to describe the rare endowments of her mind, when behold her virtues almost stifle my pen, they crowd in so fast upon it. She was an excellent Scholar, understanding the Greek, and perfectly speaking the Latin: witness her extempore speech in answer to the Polish ambassador, and another at Cambridge, Et si foeminilis iste meus pudor (for so it began) elegantly making the word * See her oration at large in Holinshead, p. 1●26. Foeminilis: and well might she mint one new word, who did * Moneta ad suum valorem reducta is part of the Epitaph on her tomb. refine so much new gold and silver. Good skill she had in the French, and Italian, using Interpreters not for need but state. She was a good Poet in English, and fluently made verses. In her time of persecution, when a Popish Priest pressed her very hardly to declare her opinion concerning the presence of Christ in the Sacrament, she truly and warily presented her judgement in these verses, 'Twas God the word that spoke it, He took the bread and broke it; And what the word did make it, That I believe and take it. And though perchance some may say this was but the best of shifts, and the worst of answers, because the distinct manner of the Presence must be believed; yet none can deny it to have been a wise return to an adversary who lay at wait for all advantages. Nor was her poetic vein less happy in Latin. When a little before the Spanish Invasion in eighty eight, the Spanish ambassador (after a larger representation of his master's demands) had summed up the effect thereof in a Tetrastich, she instantly in one verse rejoined her answer. We will presume to English both, though confessing the Latin loseth lustre by the Translation. Te veto ne pergas bello defendere Belgas: Quae Dracus eripuit nunc restituentur oportet: Quas Pater evertit jubeo te condere cellas: Relligio Papae fac restituetur ad unguem. These to you are our commands, Send no help to th' Netherlands: Of the treasure took by Drake, Restitution you must make: And those abbeys build anew, Which your Father overthrew: If for any peace you hope, In all points restore the Pope. The Queens extempore return, Ad Graecas, bone Rex, fient mandata calendas. Worthy King, know this your will At latter lammas we'll fulfil. Her piety to God was exemplary, none more constant or devout in private prayers; very attentive also at Sermons, wherein she was better affected with soundness of matter, than quaintness of expression: She could not well digest the affected over-elegancy of such as prayed for her by the title of defendresse of the faith and not the Defender, it being no false construction to apply a masculine word to so heroic a spirit. She was very devout in returning thanks to God for her constant and continual preservations; for one traitors stab was scarce put by, before another took aim at her: But as if the poisons of treason by custom were turned natural unto her, by God's protection they did her no harm. In any design of consequence she loved to be long, and well advised; but where her resolutions once seized, she would never let go her hold, according to her motto, Semper eadem. By her Temperance she improved that stock of health which Nature bestowed on her, using little wine, and less physic. Her Continence from pleasures was admirable, and she the Paragon of spotless chastity, what ever some Popish Priests (who count all virginity hid under a nun's veil) have feigned to the contrary. The best is, their words are no slander, whose words are all slander, so given to railing, that they must be dumb if they do not blaspheme Magistrates. * Edmond Campian. One Jesuit made this false Anagram on her name, Elizabeth. * Our English Bibles call her Jezabel. Jezabel. false both in matter and manner. For allow it the abatement of H, (as all Anagrams must sue in Chancery for moderate favour) yet was it both unequal and ominous that T, a solid letter, should be omitted, the presage of the gallows whereon this Anagrammatist was afterwards justly executed. Yea let the testimony of Pope * Thuan. Hist. lib. 82. Sixtus Quintus himself be believed, who professed that amongst all the Princes in Christendom he found but two which were worthy to bear command, had they not been stained with heresy, namely Henry the fourth, King of France, and Elizabeth Queen of England. And we may presume that the Pope, if commending his enemy, is therein infallible. We come to her death, the discourse whereof was more welcome to her from the mouth of her private confessor, then from a public Preacher; and she loved rather to tell herself, then to be told of her mortality, because the open mention thereof made (as she conceived) her subjects divide their loyalty betwixt the present and the future Prince. We need look into no other cause of her sickness then old age, being seventy years old (David's age) to which no King of England since the Conquest did attain. Her weakness was increased by her removal from London to Richmond in a cold winter day, sharp enough to pierce thorough those who were armed with health and youth. Also melancholy (the worst natural Parasite, whosoever seeds him shall never be rid of his company) much afflicted her, being given over to sadness and silence. Then prepared she herself for another world, being more constant in prayer, and pious exercises then ever before: yet spoke she very little to any, sighing out more than she said, and making still music to God in her heart. And as the red rose, though outwardly not so fragrant, is inwardly fare more cordial than the damask, being more thrifty of its sweetness, and reserving it in itself; so the religion of this dying Queen was most turned inward in soliloquies betwixt God and her own soul, though she wanted not outward expressions thereof. When her speech failed her, she spoke with her heart, tears, eyes, hands, and other signs, so commending herself to God the best interpreter, who understands what his Saints desire to say. Thus died Queen Elizabeth, whilst living, the first maid on earth, and when dead, the second in heaven. Surely the kingdom had died with their Queen, had not the fainting spirits thereof been refreshed by the coming in of gracious King James. She was of person, tall; of hair and complexion, fair, well-favoured, but high-nosed; of limbs and feature, neat; of a stately and majestic deportment. She had a piercing eye wherewith she used to touch what metal strangers were made of, which came into her presence. But as she counted it a pleasant conquest with her majestic look to dash strangers out of countenance, so she was merciful in pursuing those whom she overcame, and afterwards would cherish and comfort them with her smiles, if perceiving towardliness, and an ingenuous modesty in them. She much affected rich and costly apparel; and if ever jewels had just cause to be proud, it was with her wearing them. CHAP. 16. The ambassador. HE is one that represents his King in a foreign country (as a Deputy doth in his own Dominions) under the assurance of the public faith, authorized by the Law of Nations. He is either Extraordinary for some one affair with time limited, or Ordinary for general matters during his Prince's pleasure, commonly called a Legier. He is born, Maxim 1 made, or at leastwise qualified honourably, both for the honour of the sender, and him to whom he is sent; especially if the solemnity of the action wherein he is employed consisteth in ceremony and magnificence. Lewis the eleventh King of France is sufficiently condemned by Posterity for sending Oliver his Barber in an Embassage to a Princess, who so trimly dispatched his business, that he left it in the suds, and had been well washed in the river * Coming lib. 5. cap. 14. at Gant for his pains, if his feet had not been the more nimble. He is of a proper, 2 at least passable person. Otherwise if he be of a contemptible presence, he is absent whilst he is present; especially if employed in love-businesses to advance a marriage. Lady's will dislike the body for a deformed shadow. The jest is well known: When the State of Rome sent * Some say they sent three, and one of them a fool, and that Cato should say they sent an Embassy without head, heart, or feet. See Plutarch's Lives. two ambassadors, the one having scars on his head, the other lame in his feet, Mittit populus Romanus legationem quae nec caput habet, nec pedes, The people of Rome send an Embassy without head or feet. He hath a competent estate whereby to maintain his port: for a great poverty is ever suspected; 3 and he that hath a breach in his estate lies open to be assaulted with bribes. Wherefore his means ought at least to be sufficient both to defray set and constant charges, as also to make sallies and excursions of expenses on extraordinary occasions, which we may call Supererogations of State. Otherwise if he be indigent and succeed a bountiful predecessor, he will seem a fallow field after a plentiful crop. 4 He is a passable scholar, well travelled in countries and Histories; well studied in the Pleas of the Crown, I mean not such as are at home, betwixt his sovereign and his subjects, but abroad betwixt his and foreign Princes; to this end he is well skilled in the imperial Laws. Common Law itself is outlawed beyond the seas; which though a most true, is too short a measure of right, and reacheth not foreign kingdoms. 5 He well understandeth the language of that country to which he is sent; and yet he desires rather to seem ignorant of it (if such a simulation which stands neuter betwixt a Truth and a Lie be lawful) and that for these reasons: first, because though he can speak it never so exactly, his eloquence therein will be but stammering, compared to the ordinary talk of the Natives: secondly, hereby he shall in a manner stand invisible, and view others; and as joseph's deafness heard all the dialogues betwixt his brethren, so his not owning to understand the language, shall expose their talk the more open unto him: thirdly, he shall have the more advantage to speak and negotiate in his own language, at the least wise, if he cannot make them come over to him, he may meet them in the midway, in the Latin, a speech common to all learned Nations. He gets his Commission and instructions well ratified and confirmed before he sets forth. 6 Otherwise it is the worst prison to be commission-bound. And seeing he must not jet out the least penthouse beyond his foundation, he had best well survey the extent of his authority. He furnisheth himself with fit Officers in his family. 7 Especially he is careful in choosing 1 A Secretary, honest and able, careful to conceal counsels, and not such a one as will let drop out of his mouth whatsoever is poured in at his ear: Yea the head of every ambassador sleeps on the breast of his Secretary. 2 A Steward, wise and provident, such as can temper magnificence with moderation, judiciously fashioning his ordinary expenses with his master's estate, reserving a spare for all events and accidental occasions, and making all things to pass with decency, without any rudeness, noise, or disorder. He seasonably presents his Embassage, 8 and demands audience. Such is the fresh nature of some Embassages, if not spent presently, they sent ill. Thus it is ridiculous to condole griefs almost forgotten, for (besides that with a cruel courtesy it makes their sorrows bleed afresh) it foolishly seems to teach one to take that, which he hath formerly digested. When some Trojane ambassadors came to comfort Tiberius Cesar for the loss of his son, Suetonius in Tiberio. dead well nigh a twelvemonth before; And I (said the Emperor) am very sorry for your grief for the death of your Hector, slain by Achilles a thousand years since. Coming to have audience, 9 he applieth himself only to the Prince to whom he is sent. When chancellor Morvill, ambassador from the French King, delivering his message to Philip Duke of Burgundy was interrupted by Charles the Duke's * Coming. lib. 1. son, I am sent (said he) not to treat with you, but with your father. And our M ● Wade is highly commended that being sent by Queen Elizabeth to Philip King of Spain, he would not be turned * Cambd. Eliz. in Anno 1584. pag. 380. over to the Spanish Privy Counsel (whose greatest Grandees were dwarves in honour to his Queen) but would either have audience from the King himself, or would return without it. And yet afterwards our ambassador knows (if desirous that his business should take effect) how, and when to make his secret and underhand addresses to such potent Favourites as strike the stroke in the State; it often happening in commonwealths, that the master's mate steers the ship thereof, more than the Master himself. 10 In delivering his message he complies with the garb and guise of the country; either longer, briefer, more plain, or more flourishing, as it is most acceptable to such to whom he directs his speech. The Italians (whose country is called the country of good words) love the circuits of courtesy, that an ambassador should not as a sparrow-hawk fly outright to his prey, and meddle presently with the matter in hand, but with the noble falcon mount in language, soar high, fetch compasses of compliment, and then in due time stoop to game, and seize on the business propounded. Clean contrary the Swissers (who sent word to the King of France, not to send them an ambassador with store of words, but a Treasurer with plenty of money) count all words quite out, which are not strait on, have an antipathy against eloquent language; the flowers of rhetoric being as offensive to them, as sweet perfumes to such as are troubled with the Mother. Yea generally great soldiers have their stomaches sharp set to feed on the matter, loathing long speeches, as wherein they conceive themselves to lose time, in which they could conquer half a country, and, counting bluntness their best eloquence, love to be accosted in their own kind. He commands himself not to admire any thing presented unto him. 11 He looks, but not gazeth, on foreign magnificence (as country clown's on a city) beholding them with a familiar eye, as challenging old acquaintance having known them long before. If he be surprised with a sudden wonder, he so order it, that though his soul within feels an admiration, none can perceive it without in his countenance. For 1 It is inconsistent with the steadiness of his gravity to be startled with a wonder. 2 Admiration is the daughter of ignorance: whereas he ought to be so read in the world as to be posed with no rarity. 3 It is a tacit confession (if he wonders at State, Strength, or Wealth) that herein his own master's kingdom is fare surpassed. And yet he will not slight and neglect such worthy sights as he beholds, which would savour to much of sullenness and self-addiction, things ill beseeming his noble spirit. He is zealous of the least puntilloes of his master's honour. 12 Herein 'tis most true, the Law of honour servanda in apicibus: Yea a toy may be real, and a point may be essential to the sense of some sentences, and worse to be spared then some whole letter. Great Kings wrestle together by the strength and nimbleness of their ambassadors; wherefore ambassadors are careful to afford no advantages to the adverse party: and mutually no more hold is given, than what is gotten, lest the fault of the ambassador be drawn into precedent to the prejudice of his Master. He that abroad will lose an hair of his King's honour deserves to lose his own head when he comes home. He appears not violent in desiring any thing he would effect; 13 but with a seeming carelessness most carefully advanceth his master's business. If employed to conclude a Peace, he represents his Master as indifferent therein for his own part, but that desiring to spare Christian blood, preponderates him for Peace, whose conscience, not purse or arms are weary of the war: He entreats not, but treats for an accord, for their mutual good. But if the ambassador declareth himself zealous for it, perchance he may be forced to buy those conditions, which otherwise would be given him. 14 He is constantly and certainly informed of all passages in his own country. What a shame is it for him to be a stranger to his native affairs? Besides, if gulls and rumours from his country be raised on purpose to amuse our ambassador, he rather smiles than starts at these false vizards, who by private instructions from home knows the true face of his Countrey-estate. And lest his master's Secretary should fail him herein, he counts it thrift to cast away some pounds yearly to some private friend in the Court to send him true information of all home-remarkables. 15 He carefully returns good intelligence to his Master that employeth him. 1. Speedy. Not being such a sluggard as to write for news at noon, That the sun is risen. 2. True; so fare forth as may be: else he stamps it with a mark of uncertainty or suspicion. 3. Full: not filling the paper, but informing those to whom it is written. 4. Material: not grinding his advices too small, to frivolous particulars of love-toys, and private brawls, as * Lipsiu● in the end of his politics, in his censure of Historians. one layeth it to the charge of Francis Guicciardines' history, Minutissima quaeque narrat, parum ex lege aut dignitate Historiae. And yet such particulars which are too mean to be served up to the Counsel-Table, may make a feast for Ladies, or other his friends; and therefore to such our ambassador relates them by his private letters. 5. Methodical: not running on all in a continued strain, but stopping at the stages of different businesses to breath himself and the Reader, and to take and begin a new sentence. 6. Well-penned, clear and plain, not hunting after language, but teaching words their distance to wait on his matter, intermingling sententious speeches sparingly, lest seeming affected. And if constrained twice to write the same matter, still he varieth his words, lest he may seem to write like Notaries by precedents. He will not have his house serve as a retreating-place for people suspected and odious, 16 in that State wherein he is employed. Much less shall his house be a Sanctuary for Offenders, seeing the very horns of God's Altar did push away from them such notorious malefactors as did fly unto them for protection. He is cautious not to practise any treacherous act against the Prince under whom he lives: 17 lest the Shield of his Embassy prove too small to defend him from the Sword of Justice, seeing that for such an offence an ambassador is resolved into a private man, and may worthily be punished, as in the cases of Bernardinus Mendoza and the Bishop of * Set his case largely discussed in Cambd. Elizab. by the best Civilians, Anno 1571. Rosse. Yea he will not so much as break forth publicly into any discourse which he knows will be distasteful in that country wherein he is employed. Learned Bodin, who some seventy years since waited on Monsieur into England, was here, though highly admired for his learning, condemned much for his indiscretion, if his * Fran●isc. Hottoman in his Treatise of an Embass. fol. 42. corrivals pen may be credited. For being feasted at an English Lords table, he fell into the odious discourse, That a Princess, meaning Mary Queen of Scots, was after Queen Elizabeth the presumptive Inheritrix of the English Crown, notwithstanding an English Law seemed to exclude those which are born out of the land; And yet, said he, I know not where this Law is, for all the diligence that I have used to find it out: To whom it was suddenly replied by the Lord that entertained him, You shall find it written on the backside of your Salic Law: a judicious and biting rebound. 18 He is careful of suspicious complying with that Prince to whom he is sent: as to receive from him any extraordinary gifts, much less pensions, which carry with them more than an appearance of evil. Sr * Idem. fol. 23, 24. Amias Paulet was so scrupulous herein, that being ambassador in France in the days of Queen Elizabeth he would not at his departure receive from the French King the chain of gold (which is given of course) till he was half a league out of the city of Paris. 19 If he hath any libera mandata, unlimited instructions, herein his discretion is most admirable. But what go I about to do? hereof enough already, if not too much: it better complying with my profession to practise S. Paul's precept to mine own parishioners, * 2. Cor. 5.20. Now than we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be reconciled to God. CHAP. 17. The good general. THe soldier, whom we formerly described, hath since by the stairs of his own deserts climbed up to be a general, and now we come, to character him. Maxim 1 He is pious in the ordering of his own life. Some falsely conceive that Religion spoileth the spirit of a general, as bad as a rainy day doth his plume of feathers, making it droop, and hang down; whereas indeed Piety only begets true prowess. 2 He acknowledgeth God the Generalissimo of all armies; who in all battles, though the number be never so unequal, reserves the casting voice for himself. Yet can I scarce believe what * Tilman Bredenbach. de bello Livon. & Fitz Herbert of Policy & Religion, part. 1. cap. 14. one tells us, how Walter Pletemberg, Master of the Teutonick order, with a small number slew in a battle an hundred thousand Muscovite enemies with the loss of but one man on his side. He hath gained skill in his place by long experience: 3 not beginning to lead others before himself ever knew to follow, having never before (except in Cock-matches) beheld any battles. Surely they leap best in their providence forward, who fetch their rise farthest backward in their experience. He either is, or is presumed valiant. 4 Indeed courage in him is necessary, though some think that a general is above valour, who may command others to be so. As if it were all one whether courage were his naturally, or by adoption, who can make the valiant deeds of others seem his own; and his reputation for personal manhood once raised, will bear itself up; like a round body, some force is required to set it, but a touch will keep it going. Indeed it is extreme indiscretion (except in extremities) for him to be prodigal of his person. He is cheerful and willing in undergoing of labour. 5 Admirable are the miracles of an industrious army, witness the mighty ditch in Cambridge-shire made by the East-Angles, commonly called Devils-ditch, as if the pioneers thereof came from hell. Thus the effeminateness of our age, defaming what it should imitate, falsely traduces the monuments of their ancestors endeavours. He loves, and is beloved of his soldiers. 6 Whose good will he attaineth, 1. By giving them good words in his speeches unto them. When wages have sometimes accidentally fallen short, soldiers have accepted the payment in the fair language and promises of their general. 2. By partaking with his soldiers in their painful employments. When the English, at the Spanish Fleets approach in eighty eight, drew their ships out of Plymouth haven, the Lord admiral Howard himself * Cambden. Elizab. Anno 1588. towed a cable, the least joint of whose exemplary hand drew more than twenty men besides. 3. By sharing with them in their wants. When victuals have grown scant, some generals have pinched themselves to the same fare with their soldiers, who could not complain that their mess was bad, whilst their general was Fellow-commoner with them. 4. By taking notice, and rewarding of their deserts; never disinheriting a worthy soldier of his birthright, of the next Office due unto him. For a worthy man is wounded more deeply by his own general's neglect, then by his enemy's sword: The latter may kill him, but the former deads' his courage, or, which is worse, mads it into discontent; Who had rather others should make a ladder of his dead corpse to scale a city by it, than a bridge of him whilst alive for his punies to give him the Goe-by, and pass over him to preferment. For this reason chief (beside some others) a great and valiant English general in the days of Queen Elizabeth was hated of his soldiers, because he disposed Offices by his own absolute will, without respect of orderly advancing such as deserved it, which made a Great man once salute him with this letter: Sr, if you will be pleased to bestow a captain's place on the bearer hereof, being a worthy Gentleman, he shall do that for you which never as yet any soldier did, namely pray to God for your health and happiness. 7 He is fortunate in what he undertakes. Such a one was Julius Cesar, who in * Caesar. Comment. lib. 4. Britain, a country undiscovered, peopled with a valiant Nation, began a war in autumn, without apparent advantage, not having any intelligence there, being to pass over the sea into a colder climate (an enterprise, saith * The Duke of Rohan in the complete Captain, pag. 19 one, well worthy the invincible courage of Cesar, but not of his accustomed prudence) and yet returned victorious. Indeed God is the sole disposer of success: Other gifts he also scattereth amongst men, yet so that they themselves scramble to gather them up; whereas success God gives immediately into their hands, on whom he pleaseth to bestow it. He tryeth the forces of a new enemy before he encounters him. 8 Samson is half conquered, when it is known where his strength lies; and skirmishes are scouts for the discovery of the strength of an army, before battle be given. He makes his flying enemy a bridge of gold, 9 and disarms them of their best weapon, which is necessity to fight whether they will or no. Men forced to a battle against their intention often conquer beyond their expectation: stop a flying coward, and he will turn his legs into arms, and lay about him manfully; whereas open him a passage to escape, and he will quickly shut up his courage. But I dare dwell no longer on this subject. When the Pope earnestly wrote to King Richard the first, not to detain in prison his dear son, the martial Bishop of Beavois, the King sent the Pope back the armour wherein the Bishop was taken, with the words of jacob's sons to their-father, See whether or no this be the coat of thy son. Surely a corslet is no canonical coat for me, nor suits it with my Clergy-profession to proceed any further in this warlike description; only we come to give an example thereof. GUSTAVUS Adolphus the pious and Valiant King of Sweden. He was slain in the battle at Lutzen▪ the 16 of November 1632. Aged 38 years. W.M. sculp: CHAP. 18. The life of GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS King of Sweden. GUstavus Adolphus King of Sweden, born Anno Domini 1594 had princely education both for Arts and arms. In Italy he learned the mathematics, and in other places abroad, the French, Italian, and German tongues, and after he was King, he traveled under the name of M r * Gustav●s Adolph. Rex Suecorum Dr. Wats in charact. ad finem 3. part. p. 183. G. A. R. S. being the four initial letters of his name, and title. He was but seventeen years old at his father's death, being left not only a young King, but also in a young kingdom; for his title to the Crown of Sweden was but five years old, to wit since the beginning of his father's reign. All his bordering Princes (on the North nothing but the North bounded on him) were his enemies; the Duke-Emperour of Muscovy on the East, the King of Denmark on the West, and of Poland on the South: The former two laid claim to parcels, the latter, to all his kingdom. Yet was he too great for them in his minority, both defending his own, and gaining on them. Woe be to the kingdom whose King is a child, yet blessed is that kingdom whose King, though a child in age, is a man in worth. These his first actions had much of glory, and yet somewhat of possibility and credit in them. But Chronicle and belief must strain hard to make his german Conquest probable with posterity; coming in with eleven thousand men, having no certain confederates, but some of his alliance, whom the Emperor had outed of all their estates: And yet in two years and four months he left the Emperor in as bad a case almost, as he found those Princes in. God's Providence herein is chief to be admired, who to open him a free entrance into Germany, diverted the imperial and Spanish forces into Italy, there to scramble against the French for the dukedom of Mantua. For heaven only knows how much Protestant flesh the Imperialists had devoured, if that bone had not stuck in their teeth. If we look on second causes, we may ascribe his victories to this King's piety, wisdom, valour, and other virtues. His piety to God was exemplary, being more addicted to prayer then to fight, as if he would rather conquer Heaven then Earth. He was himself exceeding temperate, save only too much given to anger, but afterwards he would correct himself, and be choleric with his choler, showing himself a man in the one, and a Saint in the other. He was a strict observer of martial discipline, the life of war, without which an Army is but a crowd (not to say herd) of people. He would march all day in complete armour, which was by custom no more burden to him then his arms, and to carry his helmet, no more trouble than his head; whilst his example made the same easy to all his soldiers. He was a strict punisher of misdemeanours and wanton intemperance in his camp: And yet let me relate this story from one present therein. When first he entered Germany, he perceived how that many women followed his soldiers, some being their wives, and some wanting nothing to make them so but marriage, yet most passing for their laundresses, though commonly defiling more than they wash. The King coming to a great river, after his men and the wagons were passed over, caused the bridge to be broken down, hoping so to be rid of these feminine impediments; but they one a sudden lift up a panic schrick which pierced the skies, and the soldier's hearts on the other side of the river, who instantly vowed not to stir a foot farther, except with baggage, and that the women might be fetched over, which was done accordingly. For the King finding this ill humour so generally dispersed in his men, that it was dangerous to purge it all at once, smiled out his anger for the present, and permitted what he could not amend: yet this abuse was afterwards reform by degrees. He was very merciful to any that would submit. And as the iron gate miraculously opened to S. Peter of its own accord, so his mercy wrought miracles, making many city-gates open to him of themselves, before he ever knocked at them to demand entrance, the inhabitants desiring to shroud themselves under his protection. Yea he was merciful to those places which he took by assault, ever detesting the bloodiness of Tilly at Magdenburg, under the ashes whereof he buried his honour, coming valiant thither, and departing cruel thence. In such cases he was merciful to women (not like those generals who know the differences of Sex in their lust, but not in their anger) yea the very Jesuits themselves tasted of his courtesy, though merrily he laid to their charge, that they would neither Preach faith to, nor keep faith with others. He had the true art (almost lost) of Encamping, where he would lie in his Trenches in despite of all enemies, keeping the clock of his own time, and would fight for no man's pleasure but his own. No seeming flight or disorder of his enemies should cousin him into a battle, nor their daring bravadoes anger him into it, nor any violence force him to fight, till he thought fitting himself, counting it good manners in war to take all, but give no advantages. It was said of his Armies, that they used to rise when the swallows went to bed, when winter began, his forces most consisting of Northern Nations, and a Swede fights best when he can see his own breath. He always kept a long vacation in the dog-days, being only a saver in the summer, and a gainer all the year besides. His best harvest was in the snow; and his soldiers had most life in the dead of winter. He made but a short cut in taking of cities, many of whose fortifications were a wonder to behold; but what were they then to assault and conquer? at scaling of walls he was excellent for contriving, as his soldiers in executing: it seeming a wonder that their bodies should be made of air, so light to climb, whose arms were of iron, so heavy to strike. Such cities as would not presently open unto him, he shut them up, and having business of more importance then to imprison himself about one strength, he would consign the besieging thereof to some other Captain. And indeed he wanted not his Joabs, who when they had reduced cities to terms of yielding known (with as much wisdom as loyalty) to entitle their David to the whole honour of the action. He was highly beloved of his soldiers, of whose deserts he kept a faithful Chronicle in his heart, and advanced them accordingly. All valiant men were Swedes to him; and he differenced men in his esteem by their merits not their country. To come to his death, wherein his reputation suffers in the judgements of some, for too much hazarding of his own person in the battle. But surely some conceived necessity thereof urged him thereunto. For this his third grand set battle in Germany, was the third and last ask of his banes to the imperial Crown; and had they not been forbidden by his death, his marriage in all probability had instantly followed. Besides, * Duke of Rohan, in his complete Captain cap. 22. Never Prince hath founded great Empire, but by making war in person, nor hath lost any, but when he made war by his lieutenants: which made this King the more adventurous. His death is still left in uncertainty, whether the valour of open enemies, or treachery of false friends caused it. His side won the day, and yet lost the sun that made it; and as one saith, Upon this place the great Gustavus died, Whilst victory lay bleeding by his side. Thus the readiest way to lose a jewel is to overprise it: for indeed many men so doted on this worthy Prince, and his victories (without any default of his, who gave God the glory) that his death in some sort seemed necessary to vindicate God's honour, who usually maketh that prop of flesh to break whereon men lay too great weight of their expectation. After his death, how did men struggle to keep him alive in their reports? partly out of good will, which made them kindle new hopes of his life at every spark of probability, partly out of infidelity that his death could be true. First they thought so valiant a Prince could not live on earth; and when they saw his life, than they thought so valiant a Prince could never die, but that his death was rather a concealment for a time, daily expecting when the politicly dead should have a Resurrection in some noble exploit. I find a most * Dr. Hakewill in his apology for divine Providence, lib. 4. cap. 11. p. 546. learned pen applying these Latin verses to this noble Prince, and it is honour enough for us to translate them: In Templo plus quam Sacerdos. In Republica plus quam Rex. In sententia dicenda plus quam Senator. In judicio plus quam jurisconsultus. In Exercitu plus quam Imperator. In Acie plus quam Miles. In adversis perferendis injuriisque condonandis plus quam vir. In publica libertate tuenda plus quam Civis. In Amicitia colenda plus quam Amicus. In convictu plus quam familiaris. In venatione ferisque domandis plus quam Leo. In tota reliqua vita plus quam Philosophus. More than a Priest he in the Church might pass. More than a Prince in Commonwealth he was. More than a counsellor in points of State. More than a Lawyer matters to debate. More than a general to command outright. More than a soldier to perform a fight. More than a man to bear affliction strong. More than a man good to forgive a wrong. More than a Patriot country to defend. True friendship to maintain, more than a Friend. More than familiar sweetly to converse. And though in sports more than a Lion fierce, To hunt and kill the game; yet he expressed More than Philosopher in all the rest. The Jesuits made him to be the * Descript. Bell. Suecici, per Aut. Anony. mum, pag. 186. Antichrist, and allowed him three years and an half of reign and conquest: But had he lived that full term out, the true Antichrist might have heard further from him, and Rome's Tragedy might have had an end, whose fift and last Act is still behind. Yet one * Silvester Petra Sancta in his book against Du Moulin. Jesuit, more ingenuous than the rest, gives him this testimony, that, save the badness of his cause and religion, he had nothing defective in him which belonged to an excellent King, and a good Captain. Thus let this our poor description of this King serve like a flat grave-stone or plain pavement for the present; till the richer pen of some Grotius or Heinsius shall provide to erect some statelyer Monument unto his Memory. CHAP. 19 The Prince or Heir apparent to the Crown. HE is the best pawn of the future felicity of a kingdom. His father's Subjects conceive they take a further estate of happiness in the hopes of his Succession. Maxim 1 In his infancy he gives presages of his future worth. Some first-fruits are dispatched before, to bring news to the world of the harvest of virtues which are ripening in him: his own royal spirit prompts him to some speeches and actions wherein the standers by will scarce believe their own ears and eyes, that such things can proceed from him: And yet no wonder if they have light the soon, who live nearest the East, seeing Princes have the advantage of the best birth and breeding. The Gregorian account goes ten days before the computation of the English calendar: but the capacity of Princes goes as many years before private men's of the same age. Antevenit sortem meritis, virtutibus, annos. His worth above his wealth appears, And virtues go beyond his years. He is neither kept too long from the knowledge, 2 nor brought too soon to the acquaintance with his own greatness. To be kept too long in distance from himself, would breed in him a soul too narrow for his place: On the other side, he needs not to be taught his greatness too soon, who will meet with it everywhere. The best of all is when his governors open him to himself by degrees, that his soul may spread according to his age. He playeth himself into Learning before he is ware of it. 3 Herein much is to be ascribed to the wisdom of his Teachers, who always present Learning unto him (as Angels are painted) smiling, and candy over his sourest studies with pleasure and delight, observing seasonable time, and fit method. Not like many country Schoolmasters, who in their instructions spill more than they fill, by their overhasty pouring of it in. He sympathizeth with him that by a proxy is corrected for his offence: 4 yea sometimes goeth further, and (above his age) considereth, that it is but an emblem, how hereafter his people may be punished for his own fault. He hath read how the Israelites, the second of Sam. 24.17. were plagued for David's numbering of them. And yet withal he remembreth how in the first verse of the same chapter, The wrath of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he (by permitting of Satan the instrument 1. Chron. 21.1.) moved David to number them. And as the stomach and vital parts of a man are often corroded with a rheum falling from the head, yet so that the disaffection of the stomach first caused the breeding of the same offensive distillation; so our young Prince takes notice of a reciprocation of faults and punishments betwixt King and kingdom (both making up the same body) yea that sometimes the King is corrected for the people's offences, and so è contra: Indeed in Relatives neither can be well, if both be not. 5 He is most careful in reading, and attentive in hearing God's word. King Edward the sixth (who, though a sovereign, might still in age pass for a Prince) accurately noted the days, Texts, and names of Ministers, that preached before him. Next to God's word, our Prince studies Basilicon Doron, that royal gift, which only King James was able to give, and only King James his son worthy to receive. 6 He is careful in choosing and using his recreations, refusing such which in their very posture and situation are too low for a Prince. In all his exercises he affects comeliness, or rather a kind of carelessness in show, to make his activities seem the more natural, & avoids a toiling and laborious industry, especially seeing each drop of a Prince's sweat is a pearl, and not to be thrown away for no cause. And Princes are not to reach, but to trample on recreations, making them their footstool to heighten their souls for seriousness, taking them in passage thereunto. 7 His clothes are such as may beseem his greatness: especially when he solemnly appears, or presents himself to foreign ambassadors. Yet he disdains not to be plain at ordinary times. The late * Sr. Fr. Nethersol, in the fun. orat. of him, pag. 16. Henry, Prince of Wales, being taxed by some for his too long wearing of a plain suit of Welsh freeze; Would (said he) my country cloth would last for ever. 8 He gins to study his own country, and the people therein: what places are, what may be fortified; which can withstand a long siege, and which only can make head against a present insurrection. If his land accosteth the sea, he considereth what Havens therein are barred, whose dangerous channels fence themselves, and their rocks are their blockhouses; what Keys are rusty with sands and shelves, and what are scoured with a free and open tide, with what serviceable ships belong thereunto. He takes notice also of the men in the land, and disdains his soul should be blurred with unjust prejudices, but fairly therein writes every one in order, as they are ranked by their own deserts. Hence he looks abroad to see how his country stands in relation to foreign kingdoms; 9 how it is friended with Confederates, how opposed with Enemies. His little eyes can cast a sour glance on the suspicious greatness of any near borderer; for he conceives others weakened by their own distance. He considers foreign kingdoms, and States, whether they stand on their own strength, or lean on the favour of friends, or only hang by a political Geometry, equally poising themselves betwixt their neighbours, like Lucca and Geneva, the multitude of enemy's mouths keeping them from being swallowed up. He quickly perceives that Kings, how nearly soever allied, are most of kin to their own interest; and though the same Religion be the best bond of foreign affection, yet even this breaks too often: and States when wounded, will cure themselves with a plaster made of the heartblood of their best friends. He tunes his soul in consort to the disposition of his King-father. 10 Whatsoever his desire be, the least word, countenance, or sign given, of his father's disallowance makes him instantly desist from further pursuit thereof with satisfaction, in regard he understands it disagreeing to his majesty's pleasure, and with a resolution not to have the least semblance of being discontented: He hath read how such Princes which were undutiful to their Parents either had no children, or children worse than none, which repaid their disobedience. He is also kind to his Brothers, and Sisters, whose love and affection he counteth the bulwarks and redouts for his own safety and security. 11 When grown to keep a Court by himself, he is careful in well ordering it. The foresaid Prince Henry's Court consisted of few less than five hundred persons, and yet his grave and Princely aspect gave temper to them all, so that in so numerous a family, not so much as any * Sr. William Cornwallis in the life of Prince Henry. blows were given. 12 With a frowning countenance he brusheth off from his soul all Court-mothes of flattery: especially he is deaf to such as would advise him, without any, or any just grounds, when he comes to the Crown, to run counter to the practice of his Father; and who knowing that muddy water makes the strongest beer, may conceive the troubling and embroiling of the State will be most advantageous for their active spirits. Indeed seldom two successive Kings tread in the same path: if the former be martial, though the war be just, honourable, and profitable, yet some will quarrel with the time present, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. not because it is bad, but because it is, and put a Prince forward to an alteration. If the former King were peaceable, yet happiness itself is unhappy in being too common, and many will desire war (conceited sweet to every palate which never tasted it) and urge a Prince thereunto. But our Prince knows to estimate things by their true worth and value, and will not take them upon the credit, whereon others present them unto him. 13 He conceives they will be most loving to the branch, which were most loyal to the root, and most honoured his father. We read how Henry the fifth (as yet Prince of Wales) intending to bear out one of his servants for a misdemeanour, reviled Sr William Gascoine Lord chief Justice of the King's Bench to his face in open court. The aged Judge considered how this his action would beget an immortal example, and the echo of his words (if unpunished) would be resounded for ever to the disgrace of Majesty, which is never more on its throne, then when either in person, or in his substitutes, sitting on the bench of Justice; and thereupon commanded the Prince to the prison, till he had given satisfaction to his father for the affront offered. Instantly down fell the heart of great Prince Henry, which (though as hard as rock) the breath of Justice did easily shake, being first undermined with an apprehension of his own guiltiness: And King Henry the fourth his father is reported greatly to rejoice, that he had a Judge who knew how to command by, and a son who knew how to submit to his Laws. And afterward this Prince when King (first conquering himself, and afterwards the French) reduced his Court from being a forest of wild trees, to be an orchard of sweet fruit, banishing away his bad companions, and appointing and countenancing those to keep the key of his honour, who had locked up his father's most faithfully. He shows himself to the people on fit occasions. 14 It is hard to say whether he sees or is seen with more love and delight. Every one that brings an eye to gaze on him, brings also an heart to pray for him. But his subjects in reversion most rejoice to see him in his military exercises, wishing him as much skill to know them, as little need to use them, seeing peace is as fare to be preferred before victory itself, as the end is better than the means. He values his future sovereignty, not by impunity in doing evil, 15 but by power to do good. What now his desire is, than his ability shall be▪ and he more joys, that he is a member of the true Church, than the second in the land. Only he fears to have a Crown too quickly, and therefore lengthens out his father's days with his prayers for him, and obedience to him. And thus we leave Solomon to delight in David, David in Solomon, their people in both. EDWARD Prince of Wales, commonly called the black- Prince. He died at Canturbury june the 8th. 1326. Aged 46 years. W marshal s●ulp: CHAP. 20. The life of Edward the Black Prince. EDward the Black Prince (so called from his dreaded acts and not from his * For King Ed. his father called him his Fair son, Speed p. 579. complexion) was the eldest son to Edward the third by Philippe his Queen. He was born Anno 1329, on the fifteenth of June, being friday, at Woodstock in Oxfordshire. His Parents perceiving in him more than ordinary natural perfections, were careful to bestow on him such education in Piety, and Learning, agreeable to his high birth. The Prince met their care with his towardliness, being apt to take fire, and blaze at the least spark of instruction put into him. We find him to be the first Prince of Wales, whose * See the copy thereof in Mr. selden titles of Honour, pag. 595. Charter at this day is extant, with the particular rites of investiture, which were the Crownet, and Ring of gold, with a rod of silver, worthily bestowed upon him, who may pass for a miroir of Princes whether we behold him in Peace or in war. He in the whole course of his life manifested a singular observance to his Parents, to comply with their will and desire; nor less was the tenderness of his affection to his Brothers and Sisters, whereof he had many. But as for the martial performances of this Prince, they are so many and so great that they would fill whole volumes: we will only insist on three of his most memorable achievements, remitting the Reader for the rest to our English Historians. The first shall be his behaviour in the battle of * 1346 in the twenty year of Ed. the third. Cressy, against the French, wherein Prince Edward, not fully eighteen years old, led the sore front of the English. There was a causeless report (the beginning of a rumour is sometimes all the ground thereof) spread through the French army, that the English were fled: whereupon the French posted after them, not so much to overcome (this they counted done) but to overtake them, preparing themselves rather to pursue then to fight. But coming to the town of Cressy, they found the English fortified in a woody place, and attending in good array to give battle. Whereat the French falling from their hopes were extremely vexed (a fool's paradise is a wiseman's hell) finding their enemy's faces to stand where they looked for their backs. And now both armies prepared to fight, whilst behold flocks of ravens and vultures in the air flew thither; bold guests to come without an invitation: But these smell-feast birds when they saw the cloth laid (the tents of two armies pitched) knew there would be good cheer, and came to feed on their carcases. The English divided themselves into three parts: The foremost consisting most of Archers, led by the Black Prince; the second, by the Earl of Northampton; the third, commanded by King Edward in person. The French were triple in number to the English, and had in their army the three Kings, of France, Bohemia, and Majorca: Charles Duke of Alenson, with John the Bohemian King, led the vanguard; the French King Philip, the main battle; whilst Amie Duke of Savoy brought up the rear. The Genoan Archers in the French forefront, wearied with marching, were accused for their slothfulness, and could neither get their wages nor good words, which made many of them cast down their bows, and refuse to fight; the rest had their bowstrings made useless, being wetted with a sudden shower which fell on their side: But Heavens smiling offended more than her weeping, the sun suddenly shining out in the face of the French, gave them so much light that they could not see. However Duke Charles, breaking through the Genoans, furiously charged the fronts of the English, and joined at hand-strokes with the Prince's battle, who though fight most courageously was in great danger: Therefore King Edward was sent unto (who hitherto hovered on a hillock, judiciously beholding the fight) to come and rescue his son. The King apprehending his case dangerous but not desperate, and him rather in need then extremity, told the messenger, Is my son alive, let him die or conquer, that he may have the honour of the day. The English were vexed, not at his denial, but their own request; that they should seem to suspect their Kings fatherly affection, or martial skill, as needing a remembrancer to tell him his time. To make amends, they laid about them manfully, the rather because they knew that the King looked on, to testify their valour, who also had the best cards in his own hand, though he kept them for a revie. The victory began to incline to the English, when, rather to settle then get the conquest, the King (hitherto a spectator) came in to act the Epilogue. Many English with short knives for the nonce stabbed the bellies of their enemies, cut the throats of more, letting out their souls wheresoever they could come at their bodies: and to all such as lay languishing, they gave a short acquittance, that they had paid their debt to nature. This makes French Writers complain of the English cruelty, and that it had been more honour to the general, and profit to the soldiers to have drawn less blood, and more money in ransoming captives, especially seeing many French Noblemen, who fought like lions, were killed like calves. Others plead that in war all ways and weapons are lawful, where it is the greatest mistake not to take all advantages. Night came on, and the King commanded no pursuit should be made for preventing of confusion; for soldiers scarce follow any order, when they follow their flying enemy; and it was so late, that it might have proved too soon to make a pursuit. The night proved exceeding dark (as mourning for the blood shed) nor was the next morning comforted with the rising of the sun, but remained sad and gloomy, so that in the mist many French men lost their way, and then their lives, falling into the hands of the English: so that next days glean for the number, though not for the quality of the persons slain, exceeded the harvest of the day before. And thus this victory, next to God's Providence, was justly ascribed to the Black Prince's valour, who there won and wore away the ostrich feathers, than the Arms of John King of Bohemia, there conquered and killed, and therefore since made the * Vid. Cambd. Remains pag. 344. hereditary emblems of honour to the Princes of Wales. The battle of Poitiers followed ten years after, which was fought betwixt the foresaid Black Prince, and John King of * September 19 1356. France. Before the battle began the English were reduced to great straits, their enemies being six to one. The French conceived the victory, though not in hand, yet within reach, and their arm must be put out not to get but take it. All articles with the English they accounted alms, it being great charity but no policy to compound with them. But what shall we say? War is a game wherein very often that side loseth which layeth the odds. In probability they might have famished the English without fight with them, had not they counted it a lean conquest so to bring their enemies to misery, without any honour to themselves. The conclusion was, that the French would have the English lose their honour to save their lives, tendering them unworthy conditions, which being refused, the battle was begun. The French King made choice of three hundred prime horsemen to make the first assault on the English; the election of which three hundred made more than a thousand * Paulus Aemil. in the life of King John, pag. 286. heartburnings in his army: every one counted his loyalty or manhood suspected, who was not chosen into this number; and this took off the edge of their spirits against their enemies, and turned it into envy and disdain against their friends. The French horse charged them very furiously, whom the English entertained with a feast of arrows, first, second, third course, all alike. Their horses were galled with the bearded piles, being unused to feel spurs in their breasts and buttocks. The best horses were worst wounded, for their mettle made one wound many; and that arrow which at first did but pierce, by their struggling did tear and rend. Then would they know no riders, and the riders could know no ranks; and in such a confusion, an army fights against itself. One rank fell foul with another, and the rear was ready to meet with the front: and the valiant Lord Audley, charging them before they could repair themselves, overcame all the Horse, Qua parte belli (saith my author) invicti Galli habebantur. The Horse being put to flight, the Infantry consisting most of poor people (whereof many came into the field with conquered hearts, grinded with oppression of their Gentry) counted it neither wit nor manners for them to stay, when their betters did fly, and made post hast after them. Six thousand common soldiers were slain, fifty two Lords, and seventeen hundred Knights and Esquires; one hundred ensigns taken, with John the French King, and two thousand prisoners of note. The French had a great advantage of an aftergame, if they had returned again, and made head, but they had more mind to make heels, and run away. Prince Edward, whose prowess herein was conspicuous, overcame his own valour, both in his piety, devoutly giving to God the whole glory of the conquest, and in his courtesy, with stately humility entertaining the French Prisoner-King, whom he bountifully feasted that night, though the other could not be merry albeit he was supped with great cheer, and knew himself to be very welcome. The third performance of this valiant Prince, wherein we will instance, was acted in Spain, on this occasion. Peter King of Castille was driven out of his kingdom by Henry his base Brother, and the assistance of some French forces. Prince Edward on this Peter's petition, and by his own father's permission, went with an army into Spain, to re-estate him in his kingdom: For though this Peter was a notorious Tyrant, (if authors in painting his deeds do not overshadow them, to make them blacker than they were) yet our Prince, not looking into his vices but his right, thought he was bound to assist him: For all sovereigns are like the strings of a Basevioll equally tuned to the same height, so that by sympathy, he that toucheth the one moves the other. Besides, he thought it just enough to restore him, because the French helped to cast him out; and though Spain was fare off, yet our Prince never counted himself out of his own country, whilst in any part of the world; valour naturalising a brave spirit through the Universe. With much ado he effected the business through many difficulties, occasioned partly by the treachery of King Peter, who performed none of the conditions promised, and partly through the barrenness of the country, so that the Prince was forced to sell all his own plate (Spain more needing meat then dishes) to make provision for his soldiers; but especially through the distemper of the climate, the air (or fire shall I say) thereof being extreme hot, so that it is conceived to have caused this Prince's death, which happened soon after his return. What English heart can hold from inveighing against Spanish air which deprived us of such a jewel? were it not that it may seem since to have made us some amends, when lately the breath of our nostrils breathed in that climate, and yet by God's providence was kept there, and returned thence in health and safety. Well may this Prince be taken for a Paragon of his age, and place, having the fewest vices, with so many virtues. Indeed he was somewhat given to women, our Chronicles fathering two base children on him; so hard it is to find a Samson without a Dalila. And seeing never King or King's eldest son since the conquest before his time married a subject, I must confess his Match was much beneath himself, taking the double reversion of a subjects bed, marrying Joan Countess of Salisbury, which had been twice a widow. But her surpassing beauty pleads for him herein, and yet her beauty was the meanest thing about her, being surpassed by her virtues. And what a worthy woman must she needs be herself, whose very garter hath given so much honour to Kings and Princes? He died at Canterbury, June the eighth 1376 in the forty sixth year of his age: it being wittily * Sir Francis Nethersole in his fun. or at. on Prince Henry, pag. 16. observed of the short lives of many worthy men, fatuos à morte defendit ipsa insulsitas; si cui plus caeteris aliquantulum salis insit (quod miremini) statim putrescit. CHAP. 21. The King. HE is a mortal God. This world at the first had no other Charter for its being, than God's Fiat: Kings have the same in the Present tense, I have said ye are Gods. We will describe him, first as a good man (so was Henry the third) then as a good King (so was Richard the third) both which meeting together make a King complete. For he that is not a good man, or but a good man, can never be a good sovereign. He is temperate in the ordering of his own life. Maxim 1 O the Mandate of a King's example is able to do much! especially he is, 1 Temperate in his diet. When Aeschines commended Philip King of Macedon, for a jovial man that would drink freely, * Plutarch in the li●e of Demosthenes. Demosthenes answered, that this was a good quality in a sponge, but not in a King. 2 Continent in his pleasures. Yea Princes lawful children are fare easier provided for then the rabida fames of a spurious offspring can be satisfied, whilst their paramours and Concubines (counting it their best manners to carve for themselves all they can come by) prove intolerably expensive to a State. Besides, many rebellions have risen out of the marriagebed defiled. 2 He holds his Crown immediately from the God of Heaven. * Dan. 4.17. The most high ruleth in the kingdoms of men, and giveth them to whomsoever he will. Cujus jussu nascuntur homines, ejus jussu constituuntur Principes, saith a * Irenaeus l. 5. Father: Ind illis potestas unde spiritus, saith * Tertull. Apol. pag. 6.5. another. And whosoever shall remount to the first original of Kings, shall lose his eyes in discovering the top thereof, as past ken, and touching the heavens. We read of a place in Mount Olivet (wherein the last footsteps, they say, of our Saviour before he ascended into heaven are to be seen) that it will ever lie open to the skies, and will not admit of any close or * Nullo modo contegi aut concamerari potest, sed transitus ejus à terra ad coelum usque patet apertum, Adricom. de terra Sancta ex Hieron. & aliis Autoribus. covering to be made over it how costly soever. Fare more true is this of the condition of absolute Kings, who in this respect are ever sub dio, so that no superior power can be interposed betwixt them and heaven. Yea the Character of loyalty to Kings so deeply impressed in Subjects hearts shows that only God's finger wrote it there. Hence it is if one chance to conceive ill of his sovereign, though within the cabinet of his soul, presently his own heart grows jealous of his own heart, and he could wish the tongue cut out of his tell-tale thoughts, lest they should accuse themselves. And though sometimes Rebels (Atheists against the Gods on earth) may labour to obliterate loyalty in them, yet even then their conscience, the King's Aturney, frames Articles against them, and they stand in daily fear lest Darius Longimanus (such a one is every King) should reach them, and revenge himself. 3 He claimeth to be supreme Head on earth over the Church in his Dominions. Which his power over all persons and causes ecclesiastical 1. Is given him by God, who alone hath the original propriety thereof. 2. Is derived unto him by a prescription time out of mind in the Law of Nature, declared more especially in the Word of God. 3. Is cleared and averred by the private Laws and Statutes of that State wherein he lives. For since the Pope (starting up from being the Emperor's Chaplain to be his Patron) hath invaded the rights of many earthly Princes, many wholesome Laws have been made in several kingdoms to assert and notify their King's just power in Spiritualibus. Well therefore may our King look with a frowning face on such, whose tails meet in this firebrand (which way soever the prospect of their faces be) to deny Prince's power in Church-matters. Two * Zanchez & Velasquez in their Comments on the Text. Jesuits give this farre-fetched reason, why 1. Sam. 9 14. Samuel at the Feast caused the shoulder of the Sacrifice to be reserved and kept on purpose for Saul to feed on; because, say they, Kings of all men have most need of strong shoulders patiently to endure those many troubles and molestations they shall meet with, especially, I may well add, if all their Subjects were as troublesome and disloyal as the Jesuits. The best is, as God hath given Kings shoulders to bear, he hath also given them arms to strike such as deprive them of their lawful Authority in ecclesiastical affairs. He improves his power to defend true Religion. 4 sacerdotal Offices though he will not do, he will cause them to be done. He will not offer to burn incense with Uzziah, yet he will burn Idolaters bones with Josiah, I mean advance Piety by punishing profaneness. God * Isaiah. 49.23. saith to his Church, Kings shall be thy nursing-fathers', and their Queens thy nursing-mothers'. And oh let not Princes out of State refuse to be so themselves, and only hire others, it belonging to Subjects to suck, but to Princes to suckle Religion by their authority. They ought to command God's Word to be read and practised, wherein the blessed Memory of King James shall never be forgotten. His predecessor in England restored the Scripture to her Subjects, but he in a manner, restored the Scripture to itself in causing the New Translation thereof, whereby the meanest that can read English, in effect understands the Greek and Hebrew. A Princely act, which shall last even when the lease of Time shall be expired: Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this Translation shall be read in the whole realm, there shall also this that this King hath done be told in memorial of him. 5 He useth Mercy and justice in his proceed against Offenders. Solomon * Prov. 16.12. saith, The throne is established by justice: and Solomon * Prov. ●0. 28. saith, The throne is upholden by Mercy. Which two Proverbs speak no more contradiction, than he that saith that the two opposite side-walls of an house hold up the same roof. Yea as some Astronomers (though erroneously) conceived the Crystalline Sphere to be made of water, and therefore to be set next the Primum mobile to allay the heat thereof, which otherwise by the swiftness of his motion would set all the world on fire; so Mercy must ever be set near Justice for the cooling and tempering thereof. In his mercy our King desires to resemble the God of heaven, who measureth his judgements by the ordinary cubit, but his kindnesses by the cubit of the Sanctuary, twice as big; yea all the world had been a hell without God's mercy. 6 He is rich in having a plentiful exchequer of his people's hearts. Allow me, said Archimedes, to stand in the air, and I will move the earth. But our King having a firm footing in his Subjects affections, what may he do, yea what may he not do? making the coward valiant, the miser liberal; for love, the key of hearts, will open the closest coffers. Mean time how poor is that Prince amidst all his wealth, whose Subjects are only kept by a slavish fear, the jailor of the soul. An iron arm fastened with screws may be stronger, but never so useful, because not so natural, as an arm of flesh, joined with muscles & sinews. Loving Subjects are most serviceable, as being more kindly united to their sovereign than those which are only knocked on with fear and forcing. Besides, where Subjects are envassaled with fear, Prince and People mutually watch their own advantages, which being once offered them, 'tis wonderful if they do not, and woeful if they do, make use thereof. He willingly order his actions by the Laws of his realm. 7 Indeed some maintain that Princes are too high to come under the roof of any Laws, except they voluntarily of their goodness be pleased to bow themselves thereunto, and that it is Corban, a gift and courtesy, in them to submit themselves to their Laws. But whatsoever the Theories of absolute Monarchy be, our King loves to be legal in all his practices, and thinks that his power is more safely locked up for him in his Law then kept in his own will; because God alone makes things lawful by willing them, whilst the most calmest Princes have sometimes gusts of Passion, which meeting with an unlimited Authority in them may prove dangerous to them and theirs. Yea our King is so suspicious of an unbounded power in himself, that though the wideness of his strides could make all the hedge styles, yet he will not go over, but where he may. He also hearkneth to the advice of good counsellors, remembering the speech of Antoninus the Emperor, Aequius est ut ego tot taliumque amicorum consilium sequar, quam tot talesque amici meam unius voluntatem. And yet withal our King is careful to maintain his just Prerogative, that as it be not outstretched, so it may not be overshortned. Such a gracious sovereign God hath vouchsafed to this landlord. How pious is he towards his God attentive in hearing the Word, preaching Religion with his silence, as the Minister doth with his speech! How loving to his Spouse, tender to his Children, faithful to his servants whilst they are faithful to their own innocence; otherwise leaving them to Justice under marks of his displeasure. How doth he with David walk in the midst of his house without partiality to any! How just is he in punishing wilful murder! so that it is as easy to restore the murdered to life, as to keep the murderer from death. How merciful is he to such who not out of leaguer malice, but sudden passion may chance to shed blood! to whom his pardon hath allowed leisure to drop out their own souls in tears by constant repentance all the days of their lives. How many wholesome Laws hath he enacted for the good of his Subjects! How great is his humility in so great height! which maketh his own praises painful for himself to hear, though pleasant for others to report. His royal virtues are too great to be told, and too great to be concealed. All cannot, some must break forth from the full hearts of such as be his thankful Subjects. But I must either stay or fall. My sight fails me dazzled with the lustre of majesty: all I can do is pray. Give the King thy judgements, O Lord, and thy righteousness to the King's son: smite through the loins of those that rise up against his majesty, but upon him and his let the Crown flourish: Oh cause his Subjects to meet his Princely care for their good, with a proportionable cheerfulness and alacrity in his service, that so thereby the happiness of Church and State may be continued. Grant this, O Lord, for Christ Jesus his sake our only mediator and Advocate. Amen. THE PROFANE STATE. BY THOMAS FULLER, B. D. and prebendary of Sarum. ISAIAH 32.5. The vile person shall be no more called liberal, nor the churl said to be bountiful. EZEK. 44.23. And they shall teach my people the difference betwixt the Holy and the Profane. CAMBRIDGE: ¶ Printed by ROGER DANIEL for john Williams, and are to be sold at the sign of the Crown in S. Paul's Churchyard. 1642. The Profane State. THE FIFTH BOOK. CHAP. 1. The Harlot IS one that herself is both merchant and merchandise, which she selleth for profit, and hath pleasure given her into the bargain, and yet remains a great loser. To describe her is very difficult; it being hard to draw those to the life, who never sit still: she is so various in her humours, and mutable, 'tis almost impossible to character her in a fixed posture; yea indeed some cunning Harlots are not discernible from honest women. Solomon saith, she wipeth her mouth; and who can distinguish betwixt that which was never foul, and that which is cleanly wiped. Her love is a blank, Maxim 1 wherein she writeth the next man that tendereth his affection. Impudently the Harlot lied (Prov. 7.15.) Therefore came I forth to meet thee, diligently to seek thy face, and I have found thee: else understand her that she came forth to meet him, not qua talis, but qua primus, because he came first; for any other youngster in his place would have served her turn: yet see how she makes his chance her courtesy, she affecting him as much above others, as the common road loves the next passenger best. 2 As she sees, so herself is seen by her own eyes. Sometimes she stairs on men with full fixed eyes; otherwhiles she squints forth glances, and contracts the beams in her burning glasses, to make them the hotter to inflame her objects; sometimes she dejects her eyes in a seeming civility, and many mistake in her a cunning for a modest look. But as those bullets which graze on the ground do most mischief to an army; so she hurts most with those glances which are shot from a downcast eye. 3 She writes characters of wantonness with her feet as she walks: And what Potiphars wife said with her tongue, she saith unto the passengers with her gesture and gate, Come lie with me; and nothing angrieth her so much, as when modest men affect a deafness and will not hear, or a dulness and will not understand the language of her behaviour. She counts her house a prison, and is never well till gadding abroad: sure 'tis true of women what is observed of elm, if lying within doors dry, no timber will last sound longer, but if without doors exposed to weather, no wood sooner rots and corrupts. 4 Yet some Harlots continue a kind of strange coyness even to the very last: which coyness differs from modesty as much as hemlock from parsely. They will deny common favours, because they are too small to be granted: They will part with all or none, refuse to be courteous, and reserve themselves to be dishonest; whereas women truly modest will willingly go to the bounds of free and harmless mirth, but will not be dragged any farther. 5 She is commonly known by her whorish attire: As crisping and curling, (making her hair as winding and intricate as her heart) painting, wearing naked breasts. The face indeed aught to be bare, and the haft should lie out of the sheath; but where the back and edge of the knife are shown, 'tis to be feared they mean to cut the fingers of others. I must confess some honest women may go thus, but no whit the honester for going thus. The ship may have Castor and Pollux for the badge, and notwithstanding have S. Paul for the lading: yet the modesty and discretion of honest Matrons were more to be commended, if they kept greater distance from the attire of Harlots. Sometimes she ties herself in marriage to one, 6 that she may the more freely stray to many: and cares not though her husband comes not within her bed, so be it he goeth not out beyond the Foure-seas. She useth her husband as an hood, whom she casts off in the fair weather of prosperity, but puts him on for a cover in adversity, if it chance she prove with child. Yet commonly she is as barren as lustful. 7 Yea who can expect that malt should grow to bring new increase. Besides, by many wicked devices she seeks on purpose to make herself barren (a retrograde act to set Nature back) making many issues, that she may have no issue, and an hundred more damnable devices, Which wicked projects first from hell did flow, And thither let the same in silence go, Best known of them who did them never know. And yet for all her cunning, God sometimes meets with her (who varieth his ways of dealing with wantoness, that they may be at a loss in tracing him) and sometimes against her will she proves with child, which though unable to speak, yet tells at the birth a plain story to the mother's shame. At last when her deeds grow most shameful she grows most shameless. So impudent, that she herself sometimes proves both the poison and the antidote, the temptation and the preservative; young men distasting and abhorring her boldness. And those wantoness, who perchance would willingly have gathered the fruit fruit from the tree, will not feed on such fall. 9 Generally she dies very poor. The wealth she gets is like the houses some build in Gothland, made of * Olaus magnus de Rit. Gent. sept. lib. 1. c. 23. snow, no lasting fabric; the rather, because she who took money of those who tasted the top of her wantonness, is fain to give it to such who will drink out the dregs of her lust. 10 She dieth commonly of a loathsome disease. I mean that disease, unknown to Antiquity, created within some hundreds of years, which took the name from Naples. When hell invented new degrees in sins, it was time for heaven to invent new punishments. Yet is this new disease now grown so common and ordinary, as if they meant to put divine Justice to a second task to find out a newer. And now it is high time for our Harlot, being grown loathsome to herself, to run out of herself by repentance. Some conceive that when King Henry the eighth destroyed the public Stews in this Land (which till his time stood on the banks side on Southwark next the Bear-garden, beasts and beastly women being very fit neighbours) he rather scattered then quenched the fire of lust in this kingdom, and by turning the flame out of the chimney where it had a vent, more endangered the burning of the Commonwealth. But they are deceived: for whilst the Laws of the Land tolerated open uncleanness, God might justly have made the whole State do penance for whoredom; whereas now that sin though committed, yet not permitted, and though (God knows) it be too general, it is still but personal. JOAN the first of that Name Queen of Naples which for her Incontinency and other wicked practices was put to Death. Anno 1381. Page 360. WM sculp: CHAP. 2. The life of JOAN Queen of Naples. JOan, grandchild to Robert King of Naples by Charles his son, succeeded her grandfather in the kingdom of Naples and Sicily, Anno 1343. a woman of a beautiful body and rare endowments of nature, had not the heat of her lust soured all the rest of her perfections, whose wicked life * Taken out of Brovius An. Eccle. an. 1344. Petrarch. lib. 5. Episi. & Summontius H. si. Neopol. lib. 3. and woeful death we now come to relate: And I hope none can justly lay it to my charge, if the foulness of her actions slain through the cleanest language I can wrap them in. She was first married unto her cousin Andrew, a Prince of royal extraction, and of a sweet and loving disposition. But he being not able to satisfy her wantonness, she kept company with lewd persons, at first privately, but afterwards she presented her badness visible to every eye, so that none need look through the chinks where the doors were open. Now Elizabeth Queen of Hungary, her husband Andrews mother, was much offended at the badness of her daughter-in-law, whose deeds were so foul she could not look on them, and so common she could not look besides them; wherefore in a matronly way she fairly advised her to reform her courses. For the lives of Princes are more read then their Laws, and generally more practised: Yea their example passeth as current as their coin, and what they do they seem to command to be done. Cracks in glass though passed mending are no great matter; but the least flaw in a diamond is considerable: Yea her personal fault was a national injury, which might derive and put the Sceptre into a wrong hand. These her mild instructions she sharpened with severe threaten: But no razor will cut a stony heart. Queen Joan imputed it to ages envy, old people persuading youth to leave those pleasures, which have left themselves. Besides, a mothers-in-law Sermon seldom takes well with an audience of daughters-in-law. Wherefore the old Queen finding the other past grace (that is never likely to come to it) resolved no longer to punish another's sin on herself, and vex her own righteous soul, but leaving Naples returned into Hungary. After her departure Queen Joan grew weary of her husband Andrew, complaining of his insufficiency, though those who have caninum appetitum are not competent judges what is sufficient food: And she caused her husband in the city of Aversa to be hung upon a beam and strangled in the night time, and then threw out his corpse into a garden, where it lay some days unburied. There goes a * Collenusius, l. 5. Regn. Neop. story that this Andrew on a day coming into the Queen's chamber, and finding her twisting a thick string of silk and silver, demanded of her for what purpose she made it: She answered, To hang you in it, which he then little believed, the rather because those who intent such mischief never speak of it before. But such blows in jest-earnest are most dangerous, which one can neither receive in love, nor refuse in anger. Indeed she sought in vain to colour the business, and to divert the suspicion of the murder from herself, because all the world saw that she inflicted no punishment on the actors of it which were in her power. And in such a case, when a murder is generally known, the sword of the Magistrate cannot stand neuter, but doth justify what it doth not punish. Besides, his corpse was not cold before she was hot in a new love, and married Lewis Prince of Tarentum, one of the beautifullest men in the world. But it was hard for her to please her love and her lust in the same person. This Prince wasted the state of his body to pay her the conjugal debt, which she extorted beyond all modesty or reason, so unquenchable was the wildfire of her wantonness. After his death (she hating widowhood as much as Nature doth vacuum) married James King of Majorca, and commonly styled Prince of Calabria. Some say he died of a natural death: Others, that she beheaded him for lying with another woman (who would suffer none to be dishonest but herself) Others, that he was unjustly put to death, and forced to change worlds, that she might change husbands. Her fourth husband was Otho of Brunswick, who came a Commander out of Germany, with a company of soldiers, and performed excellent service in Italy. A good soldier he was, and it was not the least part of his valour to adventure on so skittish a beast: But he hoped to feast his hungry fortune on this reversion. By all four husbands she had no children; either because the drought of her wantonness parched the fruit of her womb; or else because provident Nature prevented a generation of Monsters from her. By this time her sins were almost hoarse with crying to heaven for revenge. They mistake who think divine Justice sleepeth when it winks for a while at Offenders. Hitherto she had kept herself in a whole skin by the rents which were in the Church of Rome. For there being a long time a schism betwixt two Popes, Urban, and Clement, she so poised herself between them both, that she escaped unpunished. This is that Queen Joan that gave Avignon in France (yet under a pretence of sale) to Pope Urban and his successors: the stomach of his holiness not being so squeamish, but that he would take a good alms from dirty hands. It may make the chastity of Rome suspicious with the world that she hath had so good fortune to be a gainer by Harlots. But see now how Charles Prince of Dyrachium, being next of kin to Prince Andrew that was murdered, comes out of Hungary with an army into Naples to revenge his uncle's blood. He was received without resistance of any, his very name being a Petrard to make all the city-gates fly open where he came. Out issues Otho the Queen's husband with an army of men out of Naples, and most stoutly bids him battle, but is overthrown; yet was he suffered fairly to departed the kingdom, dismissed with this commendation, That never a more valiant Knight fought in defence of a more vicious Lady. Queen Joan finding it now in vain to bend her fist, fell to bowing of her knees, and having an excellent command of all her passions save her lust, fell down flat before Charles the conqueror, and submitted herself: Hitherto, said she, I have esteemed thee in place of a son, but seeing God will have it so, hereafter I shall acknowledge thee for my Lord. Charles knew well that Necessity, her Secretary, indicted her speech for her, which came little from her heart; yet, to show that he had as plentiful an Exchequer of good language, promised her fairly for the present: But mercy itself would be ashamed to pity so notorious a malefactor. After some month's imprisonment she was carried to the place where her husband was murdered, and there accordingly hanged, and cast out of the window into the garden, whose corpse at last was buried in the Nunnery of S. Clare. CHAP. 3. The Witch. BEfore we come to describe her, we must premise and prove certain propositions, whose truth may otherwise be doubted of. 1 Formerly there were Witches. Otherwise God's * Exod. 18. 2●. Law had fought against a shadow, Thou shalt not suffer a Witch to live: yea we read how King Saul, who had formerly scoured Witches out of all Israel, afterwards drank a draught of that puddle himself. 2 There are Witches for the present, though those Night-birds fly not so frequently in flocks since the light of the Gospel. Some ancient arts and mysteries are said to be lost; but sure the devil will not wholly let down any of his gainful trades. There be many Witches at this day in Lapland, who sell winds to Mariners for money (and must they not needs go whom the devil drives?) though we are not bound to believe the old story of Ericus King of Swedeland, who had a * Therefore called, Ventosus pilcus, Olaus mag. de Gent. septent. lib. 3. cap. 14. cap, and as he turned it the wind he wished for would blow on that side. 3 It is very hard to prove a Witch. Infernal contracts are made without witnesses. She that in presence of others will compact with the devil deserves to be hanged for her folly as well as impiety. 4 Many are unjustly accused for Witches. Sometimes out of ignorance of natural, & misapplying of supernatural causes; sometimes out of their neighbours mere malice, and the suspicion is increased, if the party accused be notoriously ill-favoured; whereas deformity alone is no more argument to make her a Witch, than handsomeness had been evidence to prove her an Harlot; sometimes out of their own causeless confession. Being brought before a Magistrate they acknowledge themselves to be Witches, being themselves rather bewitched with fear, or deluded with fancy. But the self-accusing of some is as little to be credited, as the self-praising of others, if alone without other evidence. 5 Witches are commonly of the feminine sex. Ever since Satan tempted our grandmother Eve, he knows that that sex is most liquorish to taste, and most careless to swallow his baits. * Fulgentius in Sermon. Nescio quid habet muliebre nomen semper cum sacris: if they light well, they are inferior to few men in piety, if ill, superior to all in superstition. 6 They are commonly distinguished into white and black Witches. White, I dare not say good Witches (for woe be to him that calleth evil good) heal those that are hurt, and help them to lost goods. But better it is to lap one's pottage like a dog, then to eat it mannerly with a spoon of the devils giving: Black Witches hurt, and do mischief. But in deeds of darkness there is no difference of colours: The white and the black are both guilty alike in compounding with the devil. And now we come to see by what degrees people arrive at this height of profaneness. Maxim 1 At the first she is only ignorant, and very malicious. She hath usually a bad face, and a worse tongue, given to railing and cursing, as if constantly bred on mount Ebal, yet speaking perchance worse than she means, though meaning worse than she should. And as the harmless wapping of a cursed cur may stir up a fierce mastiff to the worrying of sheep; so on her cursing the devil may take occasion by God's permission to do mischief, without her knowledge, and perchance against her will. 2 Some have been made * Multi dum vitare student quae vitanda non sunt, fugâ vanâ superstitionis superstitiosi siunt, Cardan. de subtle. p. 924. lib. 8. Witches by endeavouring to defend themselves against witchcraft: for fearing some suspected Witch should hurt them, they fence themselves with the devils shield against the devil's sword, put on his whole armour, beginning to use spells and charms to safeguard themselves. The art is quickly learned to which nothing but credulity and practice is required; and they often fall from defending themselves to offending of others, especially the devil not being dainty of his company where he finds welcome; and being invited once he haunts ever after. She gins at first with doing tricks rather strange then hurtful: 3 yea some of them are pretty and pleasing. But it is dangerous to gather flowers that grow on the banks of the pit of hell, for fear of falling in; yea they which play with the devils rattles, will be brought by degrees to wield his sword, and from making of sport they come to doing of mischief. At last she indents downright with the devil. 4 He is to find her some toys for a time, and to have her soul in exchange. At the first (to give the devil his due) he observes the agreement to keep up his credit, else none would trade with him; though at last he either deceives her with an equivocation, or at some other small hole this Serpent winds out himself, and breaks the covenants. And where shall she poor wretch sue the forfeited band? in heaven she neither can nor dare appear; on earth she is hanged if the contract be proved; in hell her adversary is judge, and it is woeful to appeal from the devil to the devil. But for a while let us behold her in her supposed felicity. She taketh her free progress from one place to another. 5 Sometimes the devil doth locally transport her: but he will not be her constant hackney, to carry such luggage about, but oftentimes to save portage deludes her brains in her sleep, so that they brag of long journeys, whose heads never travelled from their bolsters. These with Drake sail about the world, but it is on an ocean of their own fancies, and in a ship of the same: They boast of brave banquets they have been at, but they would be very lean should they eat no other meat: Others will persuade, if any list to believe, that by a Witch-bridle they can make a fair of horses of an acre of besome-weed. Oh silly souls! Oh subtle Satan that deceived them. 6 With strange figures and words she summons the devils to attend her: using a language which God never made at the confusion of Tongues; and an interpreter must be fetched from hell to expound it. With these, or Scripture abused, the devil is ready at her service. Who would suppose that roaring lion could so finely act the spaniel? one would think he were too old to suck, and yet he will do that also for advantage. 7 Sometimes she enjoins him to do more for her than he is able; as to wound those whom god's providence doth arm, or to break through the tents of blessed Angels, to hurt one of God's Saints. Here Satan is put to his shifts, and his wit must help him where his power fails; he either excuseth it, or seemingly performs it, lengthening his own arm by the dimness of her eye, and presenting the seeming bark of that tree which he cannot bring. 8 She lives commonly but very poor. Methinks she should bewitch to herself a golden mine, at least good meat, and whole clothes: But 'tis as rare to see one of her profession as an hangman in an whole suit. Is the possession of the devil's favour here no better? Lord, what is the reversion of it hereafter? 9 When arraigned for her life the devil leaves her to the Law to shift for herself. He hath worn out all his shoes in her former service, and will not now go barefoot to help her; and the circle of the halter is found to be too strong for all her Spirits. Yea * Plinius, lib. 3. cap. 1. Zoroaster himself, the first inventor of magic (though he laughed at his birth) led a miserable life, and died a woeful death in banishment. We will give a double example of a Witch: first of a real one, out of the Scripture, because it shall be above all exception; and then of one deeply suspected, out of our own Chronicles. CHAP. 4. The Witch of * 1. Sam. 28. Endor. HEr proper name we neither find, nor need curiously inquire: without it she is described enough for our knowledge, too much for her shame. King Saul had banished all Witches and Sorcerers out of Israel; but no besom can sweep so clean as to leave no crumb of dust behind it: This Witch of Endor still keeps herself safe in the land. God hath his remnant where Saints are cruelly persecuted; Satan also his remnant, where offenders are severely prosecuted, and (if there were no more) the whole species of Witches is preserved in this individuum, till more be provided. It happened now that King Saul, being ready to fight with the Philistines, was in great distress, because God answered him not concerning the success of the battle. With the silent, he will be silent: Saul gave no real answer in his obedience to God's commands, God will give no vocal answer to saul's requests. men's minds are naturally ambitious to know things to come: Saul is restless to know the issue of the fight. Alas, what needed he to set his teeth on edge with the sourness of that bad tidings, who soon after was to have his belly full thereof. He said to his servants, Seek me out (no wonder she was such a jewel to be sought for) one with a familiar Spirit: which was accordingly performed, and Saul came to her in a disguise. Formerly Samuel told him that his disobedience was as witchcraft; now Saul falls from the like to the same, and tradeth with Witches indeed (the receiver is as bad as the thief) and at his request she raiseth up Samuel to come unto him. What, true Samuel? It is above Satan's power to degrade a Saint from glory, though for a moment; since his own fall thence, he could fetch none from heaven. Or was it only the true body of Samuel? no; the precious ashes of the Saints (the pawn for the return of their souls) are locked up safe in the cabinet of their graves, and the devil hath no key unto it. Or lastly was it his seeming body? he that could not counterfeit the least and worst of * Exod. 8.18. worms, could he dissemble the shape of one of the best and greatest of men? Yet this is most probable, seeing Satan could change himself into an Angel of light, and God gives him more power at some times then at other. However, we will not be too peremptory herein, and build standing structures of bold assertions on so uncertain a foundation: rather with the Rechabites we will live in tents of conjectures, which on better reason we may easily alter and remove. The devil's speech looks backward and forward, relates and foretells: the historical part thereof is easy, recounting Gods special favours to Saul, and his ingratitude to God, and the matter thereof very pious. Not every one that saith Lord, Lord (whether to him or of him) shall enter into the kingdom of heaven: for Satan here useth the Lord's name six times in four verses. The prophetical part of his speech is harder, how he could foretell to morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me: what, with me true Samuel in heaven? that was too good a place (will some say) for Saul: or with me true Satan in hell? that was too bad a place for Jonathan. What then? with me pretended Samuel in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in the state of the dead. But how came the Witch or Satan by this knowledge? surely that uggly monster never looked his face in that beautiful glass of the Trinity, which (as some will have it) represents things to the blessed Angels. No doubt than he gathered it by experimental collection, who, having kept an exact Ephemerideses of all actions for more than five thousand years together, can thereby make a more than probable guess of future contingents; the rather because accidents in this world are not so much new as renewed. Besides, he saw it in the natural causes, in the strength of the Philistines, and weakness of the Israelitish army, and in David's ripeness to succeed Saul in the Throne. Perchance as vultures are said to smell the earthliness of a dying corpse; so this bird of prey resented a worse than earthly savour in the soul of Saul, an evidence of his death at hand. Or else we may say the devil knew it by particular revelation; for God to use the devil for his own turn might impart it unto him, to advance wicked men's repute of Satan's power, that they who would be deceived should be deceived to believe that Satan knows more than he does. The dismal news so frighted Saul, that he fell along on the earth, and yet at last is persuaded to arise and eat meat, she killing and dressing a fat calf for him. Witches generally are so poor they can scarce feed themselves: see here one able to feast a King. That which goeth into the mouth defileth not: better eat meat of her dressing, then take counsel of her giving; and her hands might be clean, whose soul meddled with unclean spirits. Saul must eat somewhat, that he might be strengthened to live to be killed, as afterwards it came to pass. And here the mention of this Witch in Scripture vanisheth away, & we will follow her no farther. If afterward she escaped the justice of man, God's judgement, without her repentance, hath long since overtaken her. CHAP. 5. The life of JOAN of Arc. IOan of Arc was born in a village called Domrenny upon the Marches of Bar, near to Vaucoleurs. Her parents, James of Arc and Isabella, were very poor people, and brought her up to keep sheep: where for a while we will leave her, and come to behold the miserable estate of the kingdom of France wherein she lived. In her time Charles the seventh was the distressed French King, having only two entire Provinces left him, Gascoigne and Languedoc, and his enemies were about them, and in all the rest, which were possessed by the English, under their young King Henry the sixth, and his aged generals the Duke of Bedford, and the Earls of Salisbury and Suffolk. Besides they had besieged the city of Orleans, and brought it to that pass that the highest hopes of those therein was to yield on good terms. Matters standing in this woeful case, three French * Gyrard Seigneurdu Haillizan in Charles the seventh. Noblemen projected with themselves to make a cordial for the consumption of the spirits of their King and countrymen; but this seemed a great difficulty to perform, the French people being so much dejected: and when men's hearts are once down, it is hard to fasten any pulleys to them to draw them up. However they resolved to pitch upon some project out of the ordinary road of accidents, to elevate the people's fancies thereby, knowing that men's fancies easily slip off from smooth and common things, but are quickly catched & longest kept in such plots as have odd angles, and strange unusual corners in them. JOAN of Arc the Victorious Leader of the French armies, She was condemned by the English for a Witch, & burnt at Rohan julij the 6th 1461. being about 22 years of Age. Pag● 373. W. marshal sculp: By the mediation of a Lord she is brought to the presence of King Charles, whom she instantly knew, though never seen before, and at that time of set purpose much disguised. This very thing some heighten to a miracle, though others make it fall much beneath a wonder, as being no more than a Scholars ready saying of that lesson, which he hath formerly learned without book. To the King she boldly delivers her message, how that this was the time wherein the sins of the English, and the sufferings of the French, were come to the height, and she appointed by the God of heaven to be the French leader to conquer the English. If this opportunity were let slip, let them thank heaven's bounty for the tender, and their own folly for the refusal; and who would pity their eternal slavery, who thrust their own liberty from themselves. He must be deaf indeed who hears not that spoken which he desires. Charles triumphs at this news: Both his arms were to few too embrace the motion. The Fame of her flies through France, and all talk of her, whom the Divines esteem as Deborah, the soldiers as Semiramis. People found out a nest of miracles in her education, that so lion-like a spirit should be bred amongst sheep like David. Ever after she went in man's clothes, being armed cap-a-pe, and mounted on a brave Steed: and which was a wonder, when she was on horseback, none was more bold and daring; when * Gerson. lib. de mirab. victoria cujusdam pu●llae pauló post initium. alighted, none more tame and meek; so that one could scarce see her for herself, she was so changed and altered as if her spirits dismounted with her body. No sword would please her, but one taken out of the * Polidor. Virg. in Hen. sixth, pag. 471. Church of S. Katharin in Fierebois in Tourain. Her first service was in twice victualling of Orleans, whilst the English made no resistance, as if they had eyes only to gaze, and no arms to fight. Hence she sent a menacing * See the copy thereof in Speeds King Hen. sixth, pag. 654. letter to the Earl of Suffolk, the English general, commanding him in Gods and her own name to yield up the keys of all good cities to her, the Virgin sent by God to restore them to the French. The letter was received with scorn; and the trumpeter that brought it commanded to be burnt, against the Law of Nations, saith a French * Du Serres in his French Hist. translat. by Grimston, p. 326. Author, but erroneously: for his coming was not warranted by the authority of any lawful Prince, but from a private maid, how highly soever self-pretended, who had neither estate to keep, nor commission to send a trumpeter. Now the minds of the French were all afloat with this the conceit of their new general, which miraculously raised their Spirits. Fancy is the castle commanding the city; and if once men's heads be possessed with strange imaginations, the whole body will follow, and be infinitely transported therewithal. Under her conduct they first drive away the English from Orleans: nor was she a whit daunted, when shot through her arm with an arrow; but taking the arrow in one hand, and her sword in another, This is a * Idem. p. 317. favour, said she; let us go on, they cannot escape the hand of God: and she never left off, till she had beaten the English from the city. And hence this virago (call her now John or Joan) marched on into other countries, which instantly revolted to the French crown. The example of the first place was the reason of all the rest to submit. The English in many skirmishes were worsted and defeated with few numbers. But what shall we say? when God intends a Nation shall be beaten, he ties their hands behind them. The French followed their blow, losing no time, lest the height of their Spirits should be remitted: (men's Imaginations when once on foot must ever be kept going, like those that go on stilts in fenny countries, lest standing still they be in danger of falling) and so keeping the conceit of their soldiers at the height, in one twelvemonth they recovered the greatest part of that the English did possess. But success did afterwards fail this She-Generall: for seeking to surprise S. Honories ditch near the city of S. Denis, she was not only wounded herself, but also lost a Troup of her best and most resolute soldiers; and not long after, nigh the city of Compeigne, being too fare engaged in fight, was taken prisoner by the bastard of Vendosme, who sold her to the Duke of Bedford, and by him she was kept a prisoner a twelvemonth in Rohan. It was much disputed amongst the Statists what should be done with her: Some held that no punishment was to be inflicted on her, because Nullum memorabile nomen Foeminea in poena. Cruelty to a woman, Brings honour unto no man. Besides, putting her to death would render all English men guilty which should hereafter be taken prisoners by the French. Her former valour deserved praise, her present misery deserved pity; captivity being no ill action but ill success: let them rather allow her an honourable pension, and so make her valiant deeds their own by rewarding them. However, she ought not to be put to death: for if the English would punish her, they could not more disgrace her then with life, to let her live though in a poor mean way, and then she would be the best confutation of her own glorious prophecies; let them make her the laundress to the English, who was the Leader to the French army. Against these argument's necessity of State was urged, a reason above all reason; it being in vain to dispute whether that may be done which must be done. For the French superstition of her could not be reform except the idol was destroyed; and it would spoil the French puppet-plays in this nature for ever after, by making her an example. Besides she was no prisoner of war, but a prisoner of Justice, deserving death for her witchcraft and whoredoms; whereupon she was burnt at Rohan the sixth of July 1461, not without the aspersion of * Sententia post homines natos durissima, Pol. Vir. pag. 477. cruelty on our Nation. Learned * Gerson in the book which he wrote of her, after long discussing the point leaves it uncertain, but is rather charitably inclined. men are in a great doubt what to think of her. Some make her a Saint, and inspired by God's Spirit, whereby she discovered strange secrets and foretold things to come. She had ever an old * Serres, pag. 325. woman which went with her, and tutoured her; and 'tis suspicious, seeing this clock could not go without that rusty wheel, that these things might be done by confederacy, though some more uncharitable conceive them to be done by Satan himself. Two customs she had which can by no way be defended. One was her constant going in man's clothes, flatly against Scripture: yea mark all the miracles in God's Word, wherein though men's estates be often changed (poor to rich, bond to free, sick to sound, yea dead to living) yet we read of no old Aeson made young, no woman Iphis turned to a man, or man Tiresias to a woman; but as for their age or sex, where nature places them, there they stand, and miracle itself will not remove them. Utterly unlawful therefore was this joan's behaviour, as an occasion to lust; and our English Writers say that when she was to be condemned she confessed herself to be with Pol. Virgil. ut priùs. child to prolong her life; but being reprived seven months for the trial thereof, it was found false. But grant her honest: though she did not burn herself, yet she might kindle others, and provoke them to wantonness. Besides, she shaved her hair in the fashion of a * Gerson. friar, against God express word, it being also a solecism in nature, all women being born votaries, and the veil of their long hair minds them of their obedience they naturally own to man: yea, without this comely ornament of hair, their most glorious beauty appears as deformed, as the sun would be prodigious without beams. Herein she had a smack of Monkery, which makes all the rest the more suspicious, as being sent to maintain as well the friars as the French Crown. And if we survey all the pretended miracles of that age, we shall find what tune soever they sung, still they had something in the close in the favour of friars, though brought in as by the by, yet perchance chief intended, so that the whole sentence was made for the parenthesis. We will close the different opinions which several authors have of her with this Epitaph, Here lies Joan of Arc, the which Some count saint, and some count witch; Some count man, and something more; Some count maid, and some a whore: Her life's in question, wrong, or right; Her death's in doubt, by laws, or might. Oh innocence take heed of it, How thou too near to guilt dost sit. (Mean time France a wonder saw, A woman rule against Salic Law.) But, Reader, be content to stay Thy censure, till the judgement-day: Then shalt thou know, and not before, Whether Saint, Witch, Man, Maid, or Whore. Some conceive that the English conquests, being come to the vertical point, would have decayed of themselves, had this woman never been set up, which now reaps the honour hereof as her action: Though thus a very child may seem to turn the waves of the sea with his breath, if casually blowing on them at that very instant when the tide is to turn of itself. Sure after her death the French went on victoriously, and won all from the English, partly by their valour, but more by our dissensions; for than began the cruel wars betwixt the Houses of York and Lancaster, till the Red rose might become White, by losing so much blood, and the White rose Red by shedding it. CHAP. 6. The Atheist. THe word Atheist is of a very large extent: every Polytheist is in effect an Atheist, for he that multiplies a deity, annihilates it; and he that divides it, destroys it. But amongst the heathen we may observe that whosoever sought to withdraw people from their idolatry, was presently indicted and arraigned of atheism. If any Philosopher saw God through their Gods, this dust was cast in his eyes, for being more quicksighted than others, that presently he was condemned for an Atheist; and thus Socrates the Pagan Martyr was put to death * justin. Martyr secund. Apolog. pro Christian. pag. 156. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. At this day three sorts of Atheists are extant in the world: 1 In life and conversation. Psal. 10.4. God is not in all his thoughts; not that he thinks there is no God, but thinks not there is a God, never minding or heeding him in the whole course of his life and actions. 2 In will and desire. Such could wish there were no God, or devil, as thiefs would have no judge nor jailor; Quod metuunt periisse expectunt. 3 In judgement and opinion. Of the former two sorts of Atheists, there are more in the world then are generally thought; of this latter, more are thought to be, than there are, a contemplative Atheist being very rare, such as were * August. tom. 7. lib. 3. contra Petilianum, c. 1. David cùm dicit, Stultus dixit in cord, etc. videtur Diagoram praedixisse. Diagoras, Protagoras, Lucian, and Theodorus, who though carrying God in his name was an Atheist in his opinion. Come we to see by what degrees a man may climb up to this height of profaneness. And we will suppose him to be one living in wealth and prosperity, which more disposeth men to atheism then adversity: For affliction mindeth men of a Deity, as those which are pinched will cry, O Lord: but much outward happiness abused occasioneth men, as wise Agur observeth, to deny God, and say, who is the Lord. First he quarrels at the diversities of religions in the world: Maxim 1 complaining how great Clerks descent in their judgements, which makes him sceptical in all opinions: Whereas such differences should not make men careless to have any, but careful to have the best religion. He loveth to maintain Paradoxes, 2 and to shut his eyes against the beams of a known truth; not only for discourse, which might be permitted: for as no cloth can be woven except the woof and the warp be cast cross one to another, so discourse will not be maintained without some opposition for the time. But our enclining-atheist goes further, engaging his affections in disputes, even in such matters where the supposing them wounds piety, but the positive maintaining them stabs it to the heart. He scoffs and makes sport at sacred things. 3 This by degrees abates the reverence of religion, and ulcers men's hearts with profaneness. The Popish Proverb well understood hath a truth in it, Never dog barked against the Crucifix, but he ran mad. 4 Hence he proceeds to take exception at God's Word. He keeps a register of many difficult places of Scripture, not that he desires satisfaction therein, but delights to puzzle Divines therewith, and counts it a great conquest when he hath posed them. Unnecessary questions out of the Bible are his most necessary study; & he is more curious to know where Lazarus his soul was the four days he lay in the grave, then careful to provide for his own soul when he shall be dead. Thus is it just with God that they who will not feed on the plain meat of his Word, should be choked with the bones thereof. But his principal delight is to sound the alarm, and to set several places of Scripture to fight one against another, betwixt which there is a seeming, and he would make a real, contradiction. 5 Afterwards he grows so impudent as to deny the Scripture itself. As Samson being fastened by a web to a pin, carried away both web and pin; so if any urge our Atheist with arguments from Scripture, and tie him to the Authority of God's Word, he denies both reason and god's Word, to which the reason is fastened. 6 Hence he proceeds to deny God himself. First in his Administration; then in his Essence. What else could be expected but that he should by't at last, who had snarled so long? First he denies Gods ordering of sublunary matters; Tush doth the Lord see, or is there knowledge in the most Highest? making him a maimed Deity, without an eye of Providence or an arm of Power, and at most restraining him only to matters above the clouds. But he that dares to confine the King of heaven, will soon after endeavour to depose him, and fall at last flatly to deny him. 7 He furnisheth himself with an armoury of arguments to fight against his own conscience: Some taken from 1. The impunity and outward happiness of wicked men: as the heathen * Ovid. lib. 3. Amor. Eleg. 3. Poet, whose verses for me shall pass unenglished. Esse Deos credamne? fidem jurata fefellit, Et facies illi, quae fuit ante, manet. And no wonder if an Atheist breaks his neck thereat, whereat the foot of David himself did almost * Psal. 73.2, 3. slip, when he saw the prosperity of the wicked; whom God only reprives for punishment hereafter. 2. From the afflictions of the godly, whilst indeed God only tries their faith and patience. As Absalon complained of his Father David's government, that none were deputed to redress people's grievances; so he objects that none righteth the wrongs of God's people, and thinks (proud dust) the world would be better steered if he were the Pilot thereof. 3. From the delaying of the day of Judgement, with those mockers 2. Peter 3. Whose objections the Apostle fully answereth. And in regard of his own particular the Atheist hath as little cause to rejoice at the deferring of the day of Judgement, as the Thief hath reason to be glad, that the Assizes be put off, who is to be tried, and may be executed before, at the Quarter-sessions: So death may take our Atheist off before the day of Judgement come. With these and other arguments he struggles with his own conscience, and long in vain seeks to conquer it, even fearing that Deity he flouts at, and dreading that God whom he denies. And as that famous Athenian soldier * justin. lib. 2. Cynegirus catching hold of one of the enemy's ships held it first with his right hand, and when that was cut off, with his left, and when both were cut off, yet still kept it with his teeth; so the conscience of our Atheist, though he bruise it, and beat it, and maim it never so much, still keeps him by the teeth, still feeding and gnawing upon him, torturing and tormenting him with thoughts of a Deity, which the other desires to suppress. 8 At last he himself is utterly overthrown by conquering his own conscience. God in justice takes from him the light which he thrust from himself, and delivers him up to a feared conscience, and a reprobate mind, whereby hell takes possession of him. The Apostle saith, Acts 17.27. That a man may feel God in his works: But now our Atheist hath a dead palsy, is past all sense, and cannot perceive God who is everywhere presented unto him. It is most strange, yet most true, which is reported, that the arms of the Duke of Rohan in France, which are fusills or lozenges, are to be seen in the wood or stones throughout all his country, so that break a stone in the middle, or lop a bough of a tree, and one shall behold the grain thereof (by some secret cause in Nature) * Because of these natural forms in wood and stone, it seems that from thence the Dukes assumed their arms. diamonded or streaked in the fashion of a lozenge: yea the very same in effect is observed in England: for the resemblances of stars, the arms of the worshipful family of the Shugburies' in Warwickshire, are found in the * Cambd. Brit. in Warwickshire. stones within their own manor of Shugbury. But what shall we say? The arms of the God of heaven, namely Power, wisdom, and goodness, are to be seen in every creature in the world, even from worms to men, and yet our Atheist will not acknowledge them, but ascribes them either to Chance (but could a blind painter limb such curious pictures) or else to Nature, which is a mere slight of the devil to conceal God from men, by calling him after another name; for what is natura naturans but God himself? 9 His death commonly is most miserable: either burnt, as Diagoras, or eaten up with louse, as * Paul. Diacon. lib. 15. Pherecydes, or devoured by dogs as Lucian, or thunder-shot and turned to ashes, as Olympus. However descending impenitent into hell, there he is Atheist no longer, but hath as much religion as the devil, to confess God and tremble: Nullus in inferno est Atheos', ante fuit. On earth were Atheists many, In hell there is not any. All speak truth, when they are on the rack; but it is a woeful thing to be hell's Convert. And there we leave the Atheist, having dwelled the longer on his Character, because that speech of worthy Mr. * In his grave counsel, p. 3. Greenham deserves to be heeded, That atheism in England is more to be feared then Popery. To give an instance of a speculative Atheist, is both hard and dangerous: hard; for we cannot see men's speculations otherwise then as they cloth themselves visible in their actions, some atheistical speeches being not sufficient evidence to convict the speaker an Atheist. Dangerous; for what satisfaction can I make to their memories, if I challenge any of so foul a crime wrongfully? We may more safely insist on an Atheist in life and conversation; and such a one was he whom we come to describe. CHAP. 7. The life of CESAR BORGIA. CEsar Borgia was base-son to Rhoderick Borgia, otherwise called Pope Alexander the sixth. This Alexander was the * Guicciard. History of Italy lib. 1. pag. 10. first of the Popes who openly owned his bastards; & whereas his predecessors (counting fig-leaves better than nothing to cover their nakedness) disguised them under the names of Nephews and godsons, he was such a savage in his lust as nakedly to acknowledge his base children, and especially this Cesar Borgia, being like his Father in the swarthiness of the complexion of his soul. His Father first made him a Cardinal, that thereby his shoulders might be enabled to bear as much Church-preferment as he could load upon him. But Borgia's active spirit disliked the profession, and was ashamed of the Gospel, which had more cause to be ashamed of him; wherefore he quickly got a dispensation to uncardinall himself. The next hindrance that troubled his high designs was, that his elder brother, the Duke of Candia, stood betwixt him and preferment. It is reported also that these two brothers justled together in their * Idem lib. 3. pag. 179. incest with their own sister Lucretia, one as famous for her whoredoms, as her namesake had * Liv. lib. 1. formerly been for her chastity. The throne and the bed cannot severally abide partners, much less both meeting together as here they did. Wherefore Cesar Borgia took order that his brother was killed one night as he road alone in the city of Rome, and his body cast into Tiber; and now he himself stood without competitour in his fathers and sister's affection. His father was infinitely ambitious to advance him, as intending not only to create him a Duke, but also to create a dukedom for him, which seemed very difficult if not impossible; for he could neither lengthen the land, nor lessen the sea in Italy, and petty Princes therein were already crowded so thick, there was not any room for any more. However the Pope by fomenting the discords betwixt the French and Spanish about the kingdom of Naples, and by embroiling all the Italian States in civil dissensions, out of their breaches picked forth a large Principality for his son, managed in this manner. There is a fair and fruitful Province in Italy, called Romania, parceled into several States, all holding as feodaries from the Pope, but by small pensions, and those seldom paid. They were bound also not to serve in arms against the Church, which old tie they little regarded, and less observed, as conceiving time had fretted it asunder; soldiers generally more weighing his gold that entertaineth them, than the cause or enemy against whom they fight. Pope Alexander set his son Borgia to reduce that country to the church's jurisdiction, but indeed to subject it to his own absolute hereditary Dominion. This in short time he * Guicciard. lib. 4. pag. 237. effected, partly by the assistance of the French King, whose pensioner he was (and by a French title made Duke Ualentinois) and partly by the effectual aid of the Ursines, a potent Family in Italy. But afterward the Ursines too late were sensible of their error herein, and grew suspicious of his greatness. For they in helping him to conquer so many petty States, gathered the several twigs, bound them into a rod, and put it into his hands to beat them therewith. Whereupon they began by degrees to withdraw their help, which Borgia perceived, and having by flattery and fair promises got the principal of their Family into his hands, he put them * Machiavelli in his Prince, cap. 7. all to the sword. For he was perfect in the devilish art of dealing an ill turn, doing it so suddenly his enemies should not hear of him before, and so sound, that he should never hear of them afterwards, either striking always surely, or not at all. And now he thought to cast away his crutches, and stand on his own legs, rendering himself absolute, without being beholden to the French King or any other: Having wholly conquered Romania, he cast his eyes on Hetruria, and therein either wan to submission or compliance most of the cities, an earnest of his future final conquest, had not the unexpected death of his father Pope Alexander prevented him. This Alexander with his son Cesar Borgia intended to poison some rich Cardinals, to which purpose a flagon of poisoned wine was prepared: But through the * Guicciard. l. 6. pag. 307. error of a servant, not privy to the project, the Pope himself and Borgia his son drank thereof, which cost the former his life, and the other a long languishing sickness. This Cesar Borgia once bragged to Machiavelli, that he had so cunningly contrived his plots, as to warrant himself against all events. If his father should die first, he had made himself master of such a way, that by the strength of his party in the city of Rome, and conclave of Cardinals, he could choose what Pope he pleased, so from him to get assurance of this province of Romania to make it hereditary to himself. And if (which was improbable) Nature should cross her hands, so that he should die before his father, yet even then he had chalked out such a course as would ensure his conquest to his posterity: so that with this politic dilemma he thought himself able to dispute against heaven itself. But (what he afterwards complained of) he never expected that at the same time, wherein his father should die, he himself should also lie desperately sick, disenabled to prosecute his designs, till one unexpected counterblast of Fortune ruffled yea blue away all his projects so curiously plaited. Thus three aces chance often not to rub; and Politicians think themselves to have stopped every small cranny, when they have left a whole door open for divine providence to undo all which they have done. The Cardinals proceed to the choice of a new Pope, whilst Borgia lay sick a-bed, much bemoaning himself; for all others (had they the command of all April showers) could not bestow on drop of pity upon him. Pius the third was first chosen Pope, answering his name, being a devout man (such black swans seldom swim in Tiber) but the chair of Pestilence choked him within twenty six days, and in his room Julius was chosen, or rather his greatness chose himself, a sworn enemy to Cesar Borgia, who still lay under the Physicians hands, and had no power to oppose the election, or to strengthen his new-got dukedom of Romania: the state of his body was to be preferred before the body of his state, and he lay striving to keep life, not to make a Pope. Yea the operation of this poison made him vomit up the dukedom of Romania which he had swallowed before, and whilst he lay sick the States and cities therein recovered their own liberties formerly enjoyed. Indeed this disease made Borgia lose his nails, that he could never after scratch to do any mischief; and being banished Italy, he fled into Navarre, where he was obscurely killed in a tumultuous insurrection. He was a man master in the art of dissembling, never looking the same way he rowed; extremely lustful, never sparing to tread hen and chickens. At the taking of Capua, where he assisted the French, he reserved * Idem, lib. 5. pag. 260. forty of the fairest Ladies to be abused by his own wantonness. And the prodigality of his lust had long before his death made him bankrupt of all the moisture in his body, if his Physicians had not daily repaired the decays therein. He exactly knew the operations of all hot and cold poisons, which would surprise nature on a sudden, and which would weary it out with a long siege. He could contract a hundred toads into one drop, and cunningly infuse the same into any pleasant liquor, as the Italians have poisoning at their finger's ends. By a fig (which restored Hezekiahs' * 2. Kings 20.7. life) he took away the lives of many. In a word, if he was not a practical Atheist, I know not who was. If any desire to know more of his badness, let them read machiavil Prince, where Borgia is brought in as an * Nunquam verebor in exemplum Valentinum subjicere, Machiavelli Prince, cap. 13. pag. 73. instance of all villainy. And though he deserves to be hissed out of Christendom, who will open his mouth in the defence of machiavil precepts, yet some have dared to defend his person; so that he in his Book shows not what Princes should be, but what then they were, intending that work, not for a glass for future Kings to dress themselves by, but only therein to present the monstrous face of the Politicians of that Age. Sure he who is a devil in this book, is a Saint * His notes on Livy, but especially his Florentine History savours of Religion. in all the rest; and those that knew him, * Boissardus part. 3. Iconum virorum illustrium. witness him to be of honest life and manners: so that that which hath sharpened the pens of many against him, is his giving so many cleanly wipes to the foul noses of the Pope and Italian Prelacy. CHAP. 8. The Hypocrite. BY Hypocrite we understand such a one as doth (Isaiah 32.6.) practise hypocrisy, make a trade or work of dissembling: For otherwise, * Hieronym. lib. 2. contra Pelag. & August in eadem verba, Serm. 59 de Tempore Hypocriseorum macula career, aut paucorum est aut nullorum. The best of god's children have a smack of hypocrisy. Maxim 1. An Hypocrite is himself both the archer and the mark, in all actions shooting at his own praise or profit. And therefore he doth all things that they may be seen: What with others is held a principal point in Law, is his main maxim in Divinity, To have good witness. Even fasting itself is meat and drink to him, whilst others behold it. 2 In the outside of religion he outshines a sincere Christian. gild cups glitter more than those of massy gold, which are seldom burnished. Yea, well may the Hypocrite afford gaudy facing, who cares not for any lining; brave it in the shop, that hath nothing in the warehouse. Nor is it a wonder if in outward service he outstrips God's servants, who out-doeth Gods command by will-worship, giving God more than he requires, though not what most he requires, I mean, his heart. 3 His vizard is commonly plucked off in this world. Sincerity is an entire thing in itself: hypocrisy consists of several pieces cunningy closed together; and sometimes the Hypocrite is smote (as Ahab with an arrow, 1. Kings 22.34.) betwixt the joints of his armour, and so is mortally wounded in his reputation. Now by these shrewd signs a dissembler is often discovered: First, heavy censuring of others for light faults: secondly, boasting of his own goodness: thirdly, the unequal beating of his pulse in matters of piety, hard, strong and quick, in public actions; weak, soft and dull, in private matters: fourthly, shrinking in persecution; for painted faces cannot abide to come nigh the fire. Yet sometimes he goes to the grave neither detected nor suspected. 4 If Masters in their art, and living in peaceable times wherein piety and prosperity do not fall out, but agree well together. Maud, mother to King Henry the second, being besieged in * Cambd. Brit. in Hantshire. Winchester castle, counterfeited herself to be dead, and so was carried out in a coffin whereby she escaped. Another time being besieged at * Matth. Paris in Anno Dom. 1141. Oxford in a cold winter, with wearing white apparel she got away in the snow undiscovered. Thus some Hypocrites by dissembling mortification that they are dead to the world, and by professing a snow-like purity in their conversations, escape all their life time undiscerned by mortal eyes. By long dissembling piety he deceives himself at last: 5 Yea, he may grow so infatuated as to conceive himself no dissembler but a sincere Saint. A scholar was so possessed with his lively personating of King Richard the third, in a Colledge-Comedy, that ever after he was transported with a royal humour in his large expenses, which brought him to beggary, though he had great preferment. Thus the Hypocrite by long acting the part of piety, at last believes himself really to be such an one, whom at first he did but counterfeit. God here knows, 6 and hereafter will make Hypocrites known to the whole world. Ottocar King of Bohemia refused to do homage to Rodulphus the first, Emperor, till at last, chastised with war, he was content to do him homage privately in a tent; which tent was so contrived by the * Pantaleon in vita Rodulph. Imperat. lib. de Illustrib. Germ. part. 2.285. Emperor's servants, that by drawing one cord, it was all taken away, and so Ottocar presented on his knees doing his homage, to the view of three Armies in presence. Thus God at last shall uncase the closest dissembler to the sight of men angels and devils, having removed all veils and pretences of piety: no goat in a sheepskin shall steal on his right hand at the last day of judgement. CHAP. 9 The life of Jehu. IEhu the son of Jehosaphat, the son of Nimshi, was one of an active spirit, and therefore employed to confound the house of Ahab; for God, when he means to shave clear, chooses a razor with a sharp edge, and never sendeth a slug on a message that requireth haste. A son of the Prophets sent by Elisha privately anointed him King at Ramoth Gilead, whereupon he was proclaimed King by the consent of the army. Surely God sent also an invisible messenger to the souls of his fellow-captains, and anointed their hearts with the oil of Subjection, as he did Jehu's head with the oil of Sovereignty. Secrecy and celerity are the two wheels of great actions. Jehu had both: he marched to Jezreel faster than Fame could fly, whose wings he had clipped by stopping all intelligence, that so at once he might be seen and felt of his enemies. In the way meeting with Jehoram and Ahaziah, he conjoined them in their deaths who consorted together in idolatry. The corpse of Jehoram he order to be cast into Nabaoths vineyard, a garden of herbs royally dunged, and watered with blood. Next he revengeth God's Prophets on cruel Jezabell, whose wicked carcase was devoured by dogs to a small reversion, as if a head that plotted, & hands that practised so much mischief, & feet so swift to shed blood were not meat good enough for dogs to eat. Then by a letter he commands the heads of Ahabs seventy sons (their Guardians turning their executioners) whose heads being laid on two heaps at the gate of Jezreel served for two soft pillows for Jehu to sleep sweetly upon, having all those corrivals to the Crown taken away. The Priests of Baal follow after. With a prettywile he fetches them all into the temple of their idol, where having ended their sacrifice, they themselves were sacrificed. However I dare not acquit Jehu herein. In Holy Fraud I like the Christian but not the surname thereof, and wonder how any can marry these two together in the same action, seeing surely the parties were never agreed. This I dare say, Be it unjust in Jehu, it was just with God, that the worshippers of a false God should be deceived with a feigned worship. Hitherto I like Jehu as well as Josiah; his zeal blazed as much: But having now got the Crown, he discovers himself a dissembling Hypocrite. It was an ill sign when he said to Jonadab the son of Rechab, Come with me, and see my zeal for the Lord. bade inviting guests to feed their eyes on our goodness. But Hypocrites rather than they will lose a drop of praise will lick it up with their own tongue. Before, he had dissembled with Baal, now he counterfeits with God. He took no heed to walk in the way of the Lord God of Israel with all his heart: formerly his sword had two edges, one cut for God's glory, the other for his own preferment. He that before drove so furiously, whilst his private ends whipped on his horses, now will not go a footpace in God's commandments, He departed not from the golden calves in Dan and Bethel. I know what Flesh will object, that this State-sinne Jehu must commit to maintain his kingdom: for the lions of gold did support the throne of Solomon, but the calves of gold the throne of Jeroboam and his successors. Should he suffer his Subjects to go up to Jerusalem thrice a year (as the Law * Exod. 34.23. of Moses commanded) this would un-King him in effect, as leaving him no able Subjects to command. And as one in the heathen Poet complains, Tres sumus imbelles numero, sine viribus uxor, Laertesque senex, Telemachusque puer. Three weaklings we, a wife for war too mild, Laertes old, Telemachus a child. So thrice a year should Jehu only be King over such an impotent company of old men, women, and children. Besides, it was to be feared that the ten Tribes going to Jerusalem to worship, where they fetched their God, would also have their King. But Faith will answer, that God that built Jehu's throne without hands, could support it without buttresses, or being beholden to idolatry: And therefore herein Jehu, who would needs piece out God's providence with his own carnal policy, was like a foolish greedy gamester, who having all the game in his own hand steals a needless card to assure himself of winning the stake, and thereby loses all. For this deep diver was drowned in his own policy, and Hazael King of Syria was raised up by God to trouble and molest them. Yet God rewarded him with a lease of the kingdom of four successive lives, who had he been sincere would have assured him of a Crown here and hereafter. Chap. 10. The heretic. IT is very difficult accurately to define him. Amongst the Heathen Atheist was, and amongst Christians heretic is the disgraceful word of course, always cast upon those who descent from the predominant current of the time. Thus those who in matters of opinion varied from the * Hic videtur quòd omnis qui non obedit statutis Romanae sedis sit Haereticus, Glossa in C. nulli didst. 19 in verbo Prostratus. Pope's copy the least hair-stroke, are condemned for heretics. Yea, Virgilius Bishop of Saltzburg was branded with that censure for maintaining that there were * joh. Avent. lib. 3. Annal. ●●ior. Antipodes opposite to the then known world. It may be, as Alexander, hearing the Philosophers dispute of more worlds, wept that he had conquered no part of them; so it grieved the Pope that these Antipodes were not subject to his jurisdiction, which much incensed his holiness against that strange opinion. We will branch the description of an heretic into these three parts. First, he is one that formerly hath been of the true Church: * 1. John 2.19. They went out from us, but they were not of us. These afterwards prove more offensive to the Church then very Pagans; as the English-Irish, descended anciently of English Parentage (be it spoken with the more shame to them, and sorrow to us) turning wild become worse enemies to our Nation then the Native Irish themselves. 2. Maintaining a fundamental error. Every scratch in the hand is not a stab to the heart; nor doth every false opinion make a heretic. 3. With obstinacy. Which is the dead flesh, making the green wound of an error fester into the old sore of an heresy. It matters not much what manner of person he hath. Maxim 1. If beautiful, perchance the more attractive of feminine followers: If deformed, so that his body is as odd as his opinions, he is the more properly entitled to the reputation of crooked Saint. 2 His natural parts are quick and able. Yet he that shall ride on a winged horse to tell him thereof, shall but come too late to bring him stolen news of what he knew too well before. 3 Learning is necessary in him if he trade's in a critical error: but if he only broochs dregs, and deals in some dull sottish opinion, a trovell will serve as well as a pencil to daub on such thick course colours. Yea in some Heresies deep studying is so useless, that the first thing they learn, is to inveigh against all learning. 4 However some smattering in the original tongues will do well. On occasion he will let fly whole volleys of Greek and Hebrew words, whereby he not only amazeth his ignorant auditors, but also in conferences daunteth many of his opposers, who (though in all other learning fare his superiors) may perchance be conscious of want of skill in those languages, whilst the heretic hereby gains credit to his cause and person. 5 His behaviour is seemingly very pious and devout. How foul soever the postern and backdoor be, the gate opening to the street is swept and garnished, and his outside adorned with pretended austerity. 6 He is extremely proud and discontented with the times, quarrelling that many beneath him in piety are above him in place. This pride hath caused many men which otherwise might have been shining lights prove smoking firebrands in the Church. 7 Having first hammered the heresy in himself, he than falls to seducing of others: so hard it is for one to have the itch and not to scratch. Yea Babylon herself will allege, that for zions sake she will not hold her peace. The necessity of propogating the truth is errors plea to divulge her falsehoods. Men, as naturally they desire to know, so they desire what they know should be known. If challenged to a private dispute, 8 his impudence bears him out. He counts it the only error to confess he hath erred. His face is of brass, which may be said either ever or never to blush. In disputing his Modus is sine modo; and as if all figures (even in logic) were magical, he neglects all forms of reasoning, counting that the only syllogism which is his conclusion. He slights any Synod if condemning his opinions; 9 esteeming the decisions thereof no more than the forfeits in a barber's shop, where a gentleman's pleasure is all the obligation to pay, and none are bound except they will bind themselves. Sometimes he comes to be put to death for his obstinacy. 10 Indeed some charitable Divines have counted it inconsistent with the lenity of the Gospel, which is to expect and endeavour the amendment of all, to put any to death for their false opinions; and we read of S. Paul (though the Papists paint him always with a sword) that he only came with a rod. However the * Gerard's Common places de magistrate. Polit. p. 1047. mildest authors allow that the Magistrate may inflict capital punishment on heretics, in cases of 1. Sedition against the State wherein he lives. And indeed such is the sympathy betwixt Church and Commonwealth that there are few Heresies, except they be purely speculative (and so I may say have heads without hands or any practical influence) but in time the violent maintainers of them may make a dangerous impression in the State. 2. Blasphemy against God, and those points of religion which are awfully to be believed. For either of these our heretic sometimes willingly undergoes death, and then in the Calendar of his own conceit he canonizeth himself for a Saint, yea a Martyr. CHAP. 11. The rigid Donatists. Anno Domini 331. THe Donatists were so called from a double Donatus, whereof the one planted the sect, the other watered it, & the devil by God's permission gave the increase. The elder Donatus being one of tolerable parts, and intolerable pride, raised a schism in Carthage against good Cecilian the Bishop there, whom he loaded unjustly with many crimes, which he was not able to prove; and vexed with this disgrace he thought to right his credit by wronging religion, and so began the * Augustin. ad Quod vult Deum. heresy of Donatists. His most dominative tenet was, that the Church was perished from the face of the earth, the relics thereof only remaining in his party. I instance the rather on this heresy, because the reviving thereof is the new disease of our times. One * Valer. Max. lib. 9 cap. 15. Vibius in Rome was so like unto Pompey, ut permutato statu Pompeius in illo, & ille in Pompeio salutari possit: Thus the Anabaptists of our days, and such as are Anabaptistically inclined, in all particulars resemble the old Donatists, abating only that difference which is necessarily required to make them alike. The epithet of rigid I therefore do add, to separate the Donatists from themselves, who separated themselves from all other Christians. For there were two principal sides of them: first, the Rogatists, from Rogatus their teacher, to whom S. Augustine beareth witness that they had zeal but not according to knowledge. These were pious people for their lives, hating bloody practices, though erroneous in their doctrine. The learned * Ipsum Fraternitatis nomen u●cunque Donatistis fastidiosum, est tamen orthodoxis erga ipsos Donatistas necessarium, Optat. lib. 3. init. Fathers of that age count them part of the true Church, and their brethren, though they themselves disclaimed any such brotherhood with other Christians. Oh the sacred violence of such worthy men's charity in plucking those to them which thrust themselves away! But there was another sort of Jesuited Donatists, as I may say, whom they called Circumcellions, though as little reason can be given of their * S. August. in Psal. 132. quia circum cel●as vagantur, count them so called; which i● rather his Allusion then the true etymology. name as of their opinions, whom we principally intent at this time. Their number in short time grew not only to be considerable but terrible: their tenet was plausible and winning; and that Faith is easily wrought which teacheth men to believe well of themselves. From Numidia, where they began, they overspread Africa, Spain, France, Italy and Rome itself. We find not any in Britain, where * S● H. Spelman counsels, pag. 446. Pelagianisme mightily reigned: either because God in his goodness would not have one country at the same time visited with a double plague, or else because this infection was to come to this island in after-ages, furbished up under a new name. Their greatest increase was under Julian the Emperor. This Apostate next to no religion loved the worst religion best, and was a professed friend to all foes of goodness. The Donatists, being punished under former Christian Emperors, repaired to him for succour, not caring whether it was an Olive or a Bramble they fled to, so be it afforded them shelter. They extolled him for such a godly man (flattery and false doctrine go ever together) with whom alone * Quòd apud eum solum justitia locum habe et, Aug. contra literas Petil. lib. 2. cap. 97. justice did remain, and he restored them their good Churches again, & armed them with many privileges against Christians. Hereupon they raised a cruel persecution, killing many men in the very Churches, murdering women and infants, defiling virgins, or ravishing them rather, for consent only defiles. God keep us from standing in the way where blind zeal is to pass, for it will trample down all before it, and mercy shall as soon be found at the hands of prevailing cowards. What the Anabaptists did in Germany, we know; what they would do here, had they power, God knows. The best security we have they will do no harm is because they cannot. We come to set down some of their principal opinions: I say, principal; for at last they did enterfere with all heretics, Arians, Macedonians, etc. ignorant zeal is too blind to go right, and too active to stand still: yea all errors are of kin, at the farthest but cousins once removed; and when men have once left the truth, their only quiet home, they will take up their lodging under any opinion which hath the least shadow of probability. We will also set down some of their reasons, and how they torture Scripture with violent interpretations to wrest from it a confession on their side, yet all in vain. First Position. That the true Church was perished from the face of the earth, the remnants thereof being only in part Donati, in that * August. lib 2. contra Crescon. cap. 37. part of Africa where Donatus and his followers were. The Anabaptists in like manner stifle God's Church by crowding it into their corner, confining the monarchy of Christ in the Gospel unto their own toparchy, and having a quarrel to the words in the Creed, Catholic Church. The donatists' Reasons. It is said, Canticles. 1.7. Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to rest in the South. By this the Donatists are meant: Africa wherein they lived was in the South. Confutation. An argument drawn from an * Quis non impudentissimè nitatur aliquid in allegoria positum pro se interpretari, nisi habeat & manifesta testimonia quotum lumine illustrentur obscura. Aug. Tom. Epist. 48. ad Vincent. allegory is weak, except all the obscurities therein be first explained. Besides, Africa Cesariensis (where the Donatists were) was much more West than South from Judea. But God's Church cannot be contracted to the chapel of Donatus, to which God himself (the truest surveyour) alloweth larger bounds, Psalm. 2.8. Ask of me, and I will give thee the Heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. Now the restrainers of the Church to a small place (as much as in them lies) falsify God's promise and shorten Christ's portion. Many other * Optat. Milev. lib. 7. & Aug. contraliter Petil. cap 6.7.8. places speak the large extent of the Gospel, Gen. 22.17. Gen. 28.14. Psal. 72.8. etc. Second Position. That their Church consisted of an holy company, pure and undefiled indeed. Thus also the Anabaptists brag of their holiness, as if nothing else were required to make men pure but a conceit that they are so. Sure had they no other fault but want of charity, their hands could not be clean who throw so much dirt on other men's faces. Reasons. It is said, Ephes. 5.27. That Christ might present to himself a glorious Church, without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish: which the Donatists appropriate to themselves. Confutation. This glorious presentation of the Church is * Aug. ut priùs ad Vincentium, & epist. 50. ad Bonifac. performed in the world to come. Here it consisteth of sinners (who had rather confess their wrinkles then paint them) and had need to pray daily, And forgive us our trespasses. Third Position. That mixed Communions were infectious, and the pious promiscuously receiving with the profane are polluted thereby. Hear the Anabaptizing sing the same note, By * Protestation protested, p. 14. profane and ignorant persons coming to the Lords table, others also that communicate with them are guilty of the same profanation. Reasons. Because several places of Scripture commend, yea command, a separation from them. Jerem. 15.19. Take forth the precious from the vile. 2. Cor. 6.17. Be ye separate and touch no unclean thing. 2. Thess. 3.6. Withdraw yourselves from every brother that walketh disorderly. 1. Cor. 5.7. Purge out therefore the old leven, etc. Confutation. In these and the like places two things are enjoined: first, a separation from intimate familiarity with profane persons; secondly, a separation from their vices and wickedness, by detesting and disclaiming them: but neither civil State-society, nor public Church-communion is hereby prohibited. By purging out the old leven, Church-censures are meant, to excommunicate the openly profane. But that mixed Communions pollute not, appears, because S. Paul saith, 1. Cor. 11.28. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, etc. but enjoins not men to examine others; which was necessary if bad Communicants did defile. It neither makes the cheer or welcome the worse to sit next to him at God's table who wants a wedding-garment, for he that touches his person, but disclaims his practices, is as fare from him, as the East from the West, yea as heaven from hell. In bodily diseases one may be infected without his knowledge, against his will: not so in spiritual contagions, where August. contr. Don. post Coll. Lib. acceditur ad vitium corruptionis vitio consensionis, and none can be infected against their consent. Fourth Position. That the godly were bound to sever from the society of the wicked, and not to keep any communion with them. Thus the most rigid of modern Factours for the Independent congregations would draw their files out of the army of our Nationall Church, and set up a congregation wherein Christ shall reign in beauty and purity. But they may fly so far from mystical Babylon as to run to literal Babel, I mean bring all to confusion, and founder the Commonwealth: For they that stride so wide at once will go fare with few paces. Reason. Because it is written, 2 Cor. 6.14. What * Aug. lib. 2. contra Petill. cap. 39 communion hath light with darkness? and in other places, to the same effect. Confutation. The answer is the same with the former: But the tares shall grow with the corn. And in the visible militant Church and kingdom of grace, that wicked men shall be unseparablie mingled with the godly, besides our saviour's testimony, Matt. 13.30. these reasons do approve: first, because Hypocrites can never be severed, but by him that can search the heart; secondly, because if men should make the separation, weak Christians would be counted no Christians, and those who have a grain of grace under a load of imperfections would be counted reprobates; thirdly, because God's vessels of honour from all eternity, not as yet appearing, but wallowing in sin, would be made castaways; fourthly, because God by the mixture of the wicked with the godly will try the watchfulness and patience of his servants; fifthly, because thereby he will bestow many favours on the wicked, to clear his justice, and render them the more inexcusable: lastly, because the mixture of the wicked, grieving the godly, will make them the more hearty pray for the day of judgement. The desire of future glory makes the godly to cry, Come Lord Jesus; but the feeling of present pain (whereof they are most sensible) causeth the ingemination, Come Lord Jesus, come quickly. In a word as it is wholesome for a flock of sheep for some goats to feed amongst them, their bad sent being good physic for the sheep to keep them from the shakes; so much profit redounds to the godly by the necessary mixture of the wicked amongst them, making the pious to stick the faster to God and goodness. Fifth Position. That * Aug. lib. 1. contraliter. Petil cap. 1. the efficacy of the Sacrament depends on the piety of the Minister; so that in effect his piety washeth the water in baptism, and sanctifieth it, whereas the profaneness of a bad man administering it doth unsacrament baptism itself, making a nullity thereof. Herein the Anabaptists join hands with them, as 'tis generally known by their rebaptising: Yea * I. Penry p. 46. and 49. some tending that way have maintained, that Sacraments received from ignorant and unpreaching Ministers are of no validity. Reason. It is written, Matth. 7.18. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Confutation. This is true of men's personal, but not of their ministerial acts: that Minister that can add the word * Aug. tract. 80. in johan. of institution to the element, makes a sufficient Sacrament: And Sacraments, like to shelmeats, may be eaten after fowl hands, without any harm. Cum * Idem contra Parmen. lib. 2. cap. 10. obsint indigne tractantibus, prosint tamen digne sumentibus. Yet God make all Ministers pious, painful, and able: we, if beholding the present age, may justly bemoan their want, who remembering the former age, must as justly admire their plenty. Sixth Position. That all learning and * Idem. lib. 1. contra Cresco. cap. 30. eloquence was to be condemned. Late Sectarists go farther: Greenwood and Barrow * D r Soame writing against them, lib. 2. pag. 4. moved Queen Elizabeth to abolish both Universities, Which we believe and wish may then be done, When all blear eyes have quite put out the sun. Reason. Because learning hath been the cause of many Heresies, and discords in the Church. Confutation. Not learning but the conceit thereof in those that wanted it, and the abuse thereof in such as had it, caused heretics. Seventh Position. That Magistrates have no power to compel people to serve God by outward punishment: which is also the distilled position of our Anabaptists, thus blinding the Ministers, and binding the Magistrate, what work do they make? Reason. Because it is a breach of the * August lib. 3. cont. Crescon. cap. 51. liberty of the creature: The King of heaven gave not men freewill, for the Kings of the earth to take it away from them. Confutation. God gave men freewill to use it well; if they abuse it, God gave Magistrates power to punish them, else they bear the sword in vain. They may command people to serve God, who herein have no cause to complain; better to be compelled to a feast, Luke 14.23. then to run to a fray. But these men who would not have Magistrates compel them, quaere whether if they had power they would not compel Magistrates. The Donatists also did mightily boast of miracles and visions: they made nothing to step into the third heaven, and have familiar * Donatus oravit, respondet ei Deus de coelo, Aug. in Johann. tract. 3. prope finem. dialogues with God himself: they used also to cite their revelations as arguments for their opinions; we will trust the copy of such their visions to be true, when we see the original produced: herein the Anabaptists come not behind them. Strange was the donatists' ambition of martyrdom; they used to force such as they met to wound them mortally, or violently to stab and kill them; and on purpose to fall down from * Theodoretus in fabulis Haeret. steep mountains, which one day may wish the mountains to fall on them. For Martyrs are to die willingly but not wilfully; and though to die be a debt due to nature, yet he that pays it before the time, may be called upon for repayment to die the second death. Once many Donatists met a noble * Centuriator. cent. 4 c. 5 p. 211. ex Theodoreto. Gentleman, and gave him a sword into his hand, commanding him to kill them, or threatening to kill him. Yet he refused to do it, unless first they would suffer him to bind them all; for fear, said he, that when I have killed one or two of you, the rest alter their minds and fall upon me. Having fast bound them all, he sound whipped them, and so let them alone. Herein he shown more wit than they wanted, and more charity than wit, denying them their desires, and giving them their deserts, seeking to make true Saints by marring of false Martyrs. These Donatists were opposed by the learned writings of private Fathers, Optatus Milevitanus, and S. Augustine (no heresy could bud out, but presently his pruning-hook was at it) and by whole counsels, one at Carthage, another at Arles. But the Donatists, whilst blessing themselves, cared not for the Churches anathemas, being so fare from fearing her excommunications, that they prevented them in first excommunicating themselves by separation; and they count it a kindness to be shut out, who would willingly be gone. Besides, they called at * Aug. Epist. ad Vincentium. Carthage an Anti-councell of their own faction, consisting of two hundred seventy Bishops, to confirm their opinions. Let Truth never challenge error at the weapon of number alone, without other arguments; for some Orthodox counsels have had fewer suffrages in them, than this donatistical conventicle; and we may see small Pocket-Bibles, and a great Folio-Alchoran. But that which put the period to this heresy (for after the six hundredth year of Christ the Donatist appears not, I looked after his place and he was not to be found) was partly their own dissensions, for they * In minutula frustula, Idem. crumbled into several divisions amongst themselves: Besides the honest Rogatists (of whom before) they had several sects, some more, some less strict, called from their several masters, Cresconians, * Petilian went not so fare as the rest, Aug. lib. 3. the correct. Donati c. 17.19. Vid Aug. de schism. Maxim. brevi. collat. 3 diei. Petilians, Ticonians, Parmenians, Maximians, etc. which much differed amongst themselves. Thus is it given to all Heresies to break out into under-factions, still going further in their tenets; and such as take themselves to be twice-refined will count all others to be but dross, till there be as many Heresies as heretics, like the Ammonites, so scattered by Saul, 1. Sam. 11.11. that there remained not two of them which were together. But chief they were suppressed by the civil Magistrate (Moses will do more with a frown than Aaron with a blow, I mean with Church-censures) for * He caused the Patent of privilege which Julian granted the Donatists, publicis locis assigendum in ●udibrium: vide Baron. in Anno. 362. ●um. 264. Honorius the godly Emperor (with his arm above a thousand miles long) easily reached them in Europe, Asia, and Africa, and by punishments mixed with the church's instructions converted and reclaimed very many. In such a case teaching without punishment had done little good, and punishment without teaching would have done much harm; both mingled together, by God's blessing, caused the conversion of many, and final suppression of that heresy. The same God of his goodness grant that by the same means such as revive this heresy nowadays may have their eyes opened and their mouths stopped, their pride less and their knowledge more, that those may be stayed which are going, and those brought back which are gone into their dangerous opinions. For if the angels in heaven rejoice at the conversion of a sinner, none but devils and men devilishly minded will be sorrowful thereat. CHAP. 12. The liar IS one that makes a trade to tell falsehoods with intent to deceive. He is either open or secret. A secret liar or Equivocatour is such a one as by mental reservations and other tricks deceives him to whom he speaks, being lawfully called to deliver all the truth. And sure speech being but a copy of the heart, it cannot be avouched for a true copy, that hath less in it then the original. Hence it often comes to pass, When Jesuites unto us answer Nay, They do not English speak, 'tis Greek they say. Such an Equivocatour we leave, more needing a Book then Character to describe him. The open liar is first, either Mischievous, condemned by all; secondly, Officious, unlawful also, because doing ill for good to come of it; thirdly, Jesting, when in sport and merriment. And though some count a Jesting lie to be like the dirt of oysters, which (they say) never stains, yet is it a sin in earnest. What policy is it for one to wound himself to tickle others, and to stab his own soul to make the standers by sport? We come to describe the liar. Maxim 1. At first he tells a lie with some shame and reluctancy. For then if he cuts off but a lap of truth's garment his heart smites him; but in process of time he conquers his Conscience, and from quenching it there ariseth a smoke which soots and fouls his soul, so that afterwards he lies without any regret. 2 Having made one lie he is fain to make more to maintain it. For an untruth wanting a firm foundation needs many buttresses. The honour and happiness of the * Deut. 7.14. Israelites is the misery and mischief of lies, Not one amongst them shall be barren, but miraculously procreative to beget others. He hath a good memory which he badly abuseth. 3 Memory in a liar is no more than needs. For first lies are hard to be remembered, because many, whereas truth is but one: secondly, because a lie cursorily told takes little footing and settled fastness in the tellers memory, but prints itself deeper in the hearers, who take the greater notice because of the improbability and deformity thereof; and one will remember the sight of a monster longer than the sight of an handsome body. Hence comes it to pass that when the liar hath forgotten himself, his auditors put him in mind of the lie, and take him therein. Sometimes though his memory cannot help him from being arrested for lying, 4 his wit rescues him: which needs a long reach to bring all ends presently and probably together, gluing the splinters of his tales so cunningly that the cracks cannot be perceived. Thus a relique-monger bragged he could show a feather of the dove at Christ's baptism; but being to show it to the people, a wag had stolen away the feather and put a coal in the room of it. Well, quoth he to the spectators, I cannot be so good as my word for the present; but here is one of the coals * Chamnitius in exam. Count. Trident. pa●t. 4. p. 12. that broiled S. Laurence, and that's worth the seeing. Being challenged for telling a lie no man is more furiously angry. 5 Then he draws his sword and threatens, because he thinks that an offer of revenge, to show himself moved at the accusation, doth in some sort discharge him of the imputation; as if the condemning of the sin in appearance acquitted him in effect: or else because he that is called a liar to his face, is also called a Coward in the same breath if he swallows it; and the party charged doth conceive that if he vindicates his valour, his truth will be given him into the bargain. At last he believes his own lies to be true. 6 He hath told them over and over so often, that prescription makes a right, and he verily believes that at the first he gathered the story out of some authentical author, which only grew in his own brain. 7 No man else believes him when he speaks the truth. How much gold soever he hath in his chest, his word is but brass, and passeth for nothing: yea he is dumb in effect, for it is all one whether one cannot speak, or cannot be believed. To conclude: Some of the west Indians to expiate their sin of lying use to let themselves blood in their tongues, and to offer the blood to their idols: A good cure for the squinancy, but no satisfaction for lying. God's word hath taught us better, What profit is there in my blood? The true repentance of the party washed in the blood of Christ can only obtain pardon for this sin. CHAP. 13. The common Barreter. A Barreter is an horseleech that only sucks the corrupted blood of the Law. He trade's only in tricks and quirks: His highway is in by-paths, and he loveth a cavil better than an argument, an evasion than an answer. There be two kinds of them: either such as fight themselves, or are trumpeters in a battle to set on others. The former is a professed dueller in the Law that will challenge any, and in all suite-combats be either principal or second. Maxim 1 References & compositions he hates as bad as an hangman hates a pardon. Had he been a Scholar, he would have maintained all paradoxes; if a chirurgeon, he would never have cured a wound but always kept it raw; if a soldier, he would have been excellent at a siege, nothing but ejectio firma would out him. 2 He is half starved in the lent of a long vacation for want of employment; save only that then he brews work to broach in termtime. I find one so much delighted in Law-sport, that when * Stephen's Apol. for Herodotus. Lewis the King of France offered to ease him of a number of suits, he earnestly besought his highness to leave him some twenty or thirty behind, wherewith he might merrily pass away the time. He hath this property of an honest man, 3 that his word is as good as his band; for he will pick the lock of the strongest conveyance, or creep out at the lattice of a word. Wherefore he counts to enter common with others as good as his own several; for he will so vex his partners, that they had rather forgo their right, then undergo a suit with him. As for the trumpeter Barretour, He falls in with all his neighbours that fall out, 4 and spurs them on to go to law. A Gentleman, who in a duel was rather scratched then wounded, sent for a chirurgeon, who having opened the wound, charged his man with all speed to fetch such a salve from such a place in his study. Why (said the Gentleman) is the hurt so dangerous? Oh yes (answered the chirurgeon) if he returns not in posthaste the wound will cure itself, and so I shall lose my fee. Thus the Barretour posts to the houses of his neighbours, lest the sparks of their small discords should go out before he brings them fuel, and so he be broken by their making up. Surely he loves not to have the bells rung in a peal, but he likes it rather when they are jangled backward, himself having kindled the fire of dissension amongst his neighbours. He lives till his clothes have as many rents as himself hath made dissensions. 5 I wonder any should be of this trade, when none ever thrived on't, paying dear rates for their counsels: for bringing many cracked titles, they are fain to fill up their gaping chinks with the more gold. But I have done with this wrangling companion, half afraid to meddle with him any longer lest he should commence a suit against me for describing him. The Reader may easily perceive how this Book of the Profane State would swell to a great proportion, should we therein character all the kinds of vicious persons which stand in opposition to those which are good. But this pains may well be spared, seeing that rectum est index sui & obliqui; and the lustre of the good formerly described will sufficiently discover the enormity of those which are otherwise. We will therefore instance in three principal offenders, and so conclude. CHAP. 14. The Degenerous Gentleman. SOme will challenge this title of incongruity, as if those two words were so dissonant, that a whole sentence cannot hold them; for sure where the Gentleman is the root, Degenerous cannot be the fruit. But if any quarrel with my words, Valerius Maximus shall be my champion, who styleth such, * Valer. Max. lib. 3 cap. 5. Nobilia Portenta. By Gentleman we understand one whom the Heralds (except they will deny their best Records) must allow of ancient parentage. Such a one, when a child, being kept the devils Nazarite, that no razor of correction must come upon his head in his father's family, see what he proves in the process of time, brought to extreme poverty. Herein we intent no invective glance on those pious Gentlemen, whose states are consumed through God's secret judgement, and none of the owners visible default; only we meddle with such as by carelessness and riot cause their own ruin. Maxim 1. He goes to school to learn in jest and play in earnest. Now this Gentleman, now that Gentlewoman begs him a playday, and now the book must be thrown away, that he may see the buck hunted. He comes to school late, departs soon, and the whole year with him (like the fortnight when Christmas day falls on a tuesday) is all holidays and half-Holidayes. And as the Poets feign of Thetis, that she drenched Achilles her son in the Stygian waters, that he might not be wounded with any weapon; so cockering mothers inchant their sons to make them rod-free, which they do by making some golden circles in the hand of the Schoolmaster: thus these two conjoining together make the indentures to bind the youth to eternal ignorance; yet perchance he may get some alms of learning, here a snap, there a piece of knowledge, but nothing to purpose. His father's Servingmen (which he counts no mean preferment) admit him into their society. 2 Going to a drinking match they carry him with them to enter him, and applaud his hopefulness, finding him vicious beyond his age. The Butler makes him free (having first paid his fees accustomed) of his own father's cellar, and guesseth the profoundness of his young master's capacity by the depth of the whole-ones he fetcheth off. Coming to the University, 3 his chief study is to study nothing. What is Learning but a cloak-bag of books, cumbersome for a Gentleman to carry? and the Muses fit to make wives for farmer's sons: perchance his own tutor, for the promise of the next living (which notwithstanding his promise he afterwards sells to another) contributes to his undoing, letting him live as he list: yea, perhaps his own mother (whilst his father diets him for his health with a moderate allowance) makes him surfeit underhand by sending him money. Thus whilst some complain that the University infected him, he infected the university, from which he sucked no milk but poisoned her nipples. At the inns of Court under pretence to learn Law, 4 he learns to be lawless; not knowing by his study so much as what an Execution means, till he learns it by his own dear experience. Here he grows acquainted with the Roaring boys, I am afraid so called by a woeful Prolepsis, Here, for Hereafter. What formerly was counted the chief credit of an orator, these esteem the honour of a Swearer, Pronunciation, to mouth an oath with a graceless grace. These (as David saith) cloth themselves with curses as with a garment, and therefore desire to be in the latest fashion both in their clothes and curses: These infuse all their skill into their young novice, who shortly proves such a proficient, that he exceeds his Masters in all kinds of vicious courses. 5 Through the mediation of a Scrivener he grows acquainted with some great Usurer. Nor is this youngster so ravenous, as the other is ready to feed him with money, sometimes with a courteous violence forcing on him more than he desires, provided the security be good, except the Usurer be so valiant as to hazard the losing of a small hook to catch a great fish, and will adventure to trust him, if his estate in hope be overmeasure, though he himself be under age. Now the greater part of the money he takes up is not for his own spending, but to pay the shot of other men's riot. 6 After his father's death he flies out more than ever before. Formerly he took care for means for his spending, now he takes care for spending for his means. His wealth is so deep a gulf, no riot can ever sound the bottom of it. To make his guests drunk is the only seal of their welcome. His very meanest servant may be master of the cellar, and those who deserve no beer may command the best wine: such dancing by day, such masking by night, such roaring, such revelling, able to awake the sleeping ashes of his Great-great-grand-father, and to fright all blessing from his house. 7 Mean time the old sore of his London-debts corrupts and festers. He is careless to take out the dead flesh, or to discharge either principal or interest. Such small leaks are not worth the stopping or searching for till they be greater; he should undervalue himself to pay a sum before it grew considerable for a man of his estate. Nor can he be more careless to pay, than the Usurer is willing to continue the debt, knowing that his bands, like infants, battle best with sleeping. Vacation is his vocation, 8 and he scorns to follow any profession; and will not be confined to any laudable employment. But they who count a calling a prison, shall at last make a prison their calling. He instills also his lazy principles into his children, being of the same opinion with the Neapolitan Gentry, who stand so on the * Sr William Segar in his Honours milit. and civil. puntoes of their honour, that they prefer robbery before industry, and will rather suffer their daughter to make merchandise of her chastity, then marry the richest merchant. Drinking is one of the principal liberal Sciences he professeth. 9 A most ungentile quality, fit to be banished to rogues and rags. It was anciently counted a Dutch vice, and swarmed most in that country. I remember a sad accident which happened to Fliolmus King of Gothland, who whilst a Lord of misrule ruled in his Court, and both he and his servants were drunk, in mere merriment, meaning no harm, they took the King and put him in * Olaus' m●g. Hist. septent. p. 531. jest into a great vessel of beer, and drowned him in earnest. But * Versteg. restitut. of decayed intellig. p. 53. one tells us that this ancient and habited vice is amongst the Dutch of late years much decreased: which if it be not, would it were. Sure our Mariners observe that as the sea grows daily shallower and shallower on the shores of Holland and Zealand, so the channel of late waxeth deeper on the coasts of Kent and Essex. I pray God if drunkenness ebbs in Dutchland, it doth not flow in England, and gain not in the island what it loseth in the Continent. Yea some plead, when overwhelmed with liquor, that their thirst is but quenched: as well may they say, that in Noah's flood the dust was but sufficiently allayed. 10 Gaming is another art he studies much: an enticing witch, that hath caused the ruin of many. * Liv. lib. 27. Hannibal said of Marcellus, that nec bonam nec malam fortunam ferre potest, he could be quiet neither conqueror nor conquered; thus such is the itch of play, that Gamesters neither winning nor losing can rest contented. One propounded this question, Whether men in ships on sea were to be accounted among the living or the dead, because there were but few inches betwixt them and drowning. The same scruple may be made of great Gamesters, though their estates be never so great, whether they are to be esteemed poor or rich, there being but a few casts at dice betwixt a Gentleman (in great game) and a beggar. Our Gallant games deeply, and makes no doubt in conscience to adventure Advousands, Patronages, and Church-livings in gaming. He might call to mind Sr Miles Pateridge, who (as the soldiers cast lots for Christ his coat) played at dice for * These were four bells the greatest in London hanging in a fair Tower in Paul's Churchyard, stows Survey of London, pag. 357. Jesus bells with King Henry the eighth, & won them of him. Thus he brought the bells to ring in his pocket, but the ropes afterwards catched about his neck, and for some offences he was hanged in the days of King Edward the sixth. 11 Then first he sells the outworks of his state, some straggling manor. Nor is he sensible of this sale, which makes his means more entire, as counting the gathering of such scattering rents rather burdensome then profitable. This he sells at half the value, so that the feathers will buy the goose, and the wood will pay for the ground: with this money if he stops the hole to one creditor, by his prodigality he presently opens a wider gap to another. 12 By this time the long dormant Usurer ramps for the payment of his money. The principal, the grandmother, and the Use, the daughter, and the Use upon use, the grandchild, and perchance a generation farther, hath swelled the debt to an incredible sum, for the satisfying whereof our Gallant sells the moiety of his estate. Having sold half his land he abates nothing of his expenses: 13 but thinks five hundred pounds a year will be enough to maintain that for which a thousand pound was too little. He will not stoop till he falls, nor lessen his kennel of dogs, till with Actaeon he be eaten up with his own hounds. Being about to sink he catcheth at every rush to save himself. 14 Perchance sometimes he snatcheth at the thistle of a project, which first pricks his hands, and then breaks. Herein it may be he adventured on a matter wherein he had no skill himself (hoping by letting the Commonwealth blood to fill up his own veins again) and therefore trades with his partners brains, as his partner with his purse, till both miscarry together: or else it may be he catcheth hold on the heel of another man, who is in as dangerous a case as himself, and they embracing each other in mutual bands hasten their drowning together. His last manor he sells twice, to a country-gentleman, and a London-usurer, though the last, as having the first title, prevails to possess it: Usurers herein being like unto Foxes; they seldom take pains to dig any holes themselves, but earth in that which the foolish Badger made for them, and dwell in the manors and fair houses which others have built and provided. Having lost his own legs, he relies on the staff of his kindred; 15 first visiting them as an intermitting ague, but afterwards turns a quotidian, wearing their thresholds as bare as his own coat. At last he is as welcome as a storm; he that is abroad shelters himself from it, and he that is at home shuts the door. If he intrudes himself, yet some with their jeering tongues give him many a gird, but his brazen impudence feels nothing; and let him be armed on free-cost with the pot and the pipe, he will give them leave to shoot their flouts at him till they be weary. Sometimes he sadly paceth over the ground he sold, and is on fire with anger with himself for his folly, but presently quencheth it at the next alehouse. 16 Having undone himself, he sets up the trade to undo others. If he can but screw himself into the acquaintance of a rich heir, he rejoiceth as much at the prize as the Hollanders when they had intercepted the Plate-Fleet. He tutors this young Gamester in vice, leading him a more compendious way to his ruin then possibly he could find out of himself. And doth not the guide deserve good wages for his direction? 17 Perhaps he behaves himself so basely that he is degraded; the sad and solemn Ceremonies whereof we may meet with in old precedents: but of them all, in my apprehension, none should make deeper impression in an ingenuous soul than this one, That at the solemn degradation of a Knight for high misdemeanour, the * Markams' decades of Honour, pag. 76. King and twelve Knights more did put on mourning garments, as an emblem of sorrow for this injury to honour, that a man Gentile by birth and blood, or honoured by a Prince's favour, should so fare forget not only himself but his Order, as to deserve so severe punishment. 18 His death is as miserable, as his life hath been vicious. An hospital is the height he hopes to be advanced to: But commonly he dies not in so charitable a prison, but sings his last note in a cage. Nor is it impossible, but that wanting land of his own he may encroach on the King's highway, and there, taking himself to be Lord of the soil, seize on Travellers as strays due unto him, and so the hangman give him a wreath more than he had in his arms before. If he dies at liberty in his pilgrimage betwixt the houses of his acquaintance, perhaps some well-disposed Gentleman may pay for his burial, and truly mourn at the funeral of an ancient Family. His children, if any, must seek their fortunes the farther off, because their father found his too soon, before he had wisdom to manage them. Within two generations his name is quite forgotten that ever any such was in the place, except some Herald in his visitation pass by, and chance to spell his broken Arms in a Church-window. And then how weak a thing is Gentry, than which (if it wants virtue) brittle glass is the more lasting monument? We forbear to give an instance of a degenerous Gentleman; would to God the world gave no examples of them. If any please to look into the forenamed * Loco priùs citato. Valerius Maximus, he shall there find the base son of Scipio Africanus, the conqueror of Hannibal and afric, so ill imitating his father, that for his viciousness he received many disgraceful repulses from the people of Rome, the fragrant smell of his father's memory making him to stink the more in their nostrils; yea they forced him to pluck off from his finger a signet-ring, whereon the face of his Father was engraven, as counting him unworthy to wear his picture who would not resemble his virtue. CHAP. 15. The traitor. A traitor * He is either against the sovereign Person alone, or against the State wherein he lives. We deal only in describing the former, because to character the other, exact skill in the Municipal Laws of that State is required, wherein he is charged of treason. works by fraud as a rebel does by force, and in this respect is more dangerous, because there's less stock required to set him up: Rebellion must be managed with many swords, Treason to his Prince's person may be with one knife. Generally their success is as bad as their cause, being either detected before, defeated in, or punished after their part acted; detected before, either by wilfulness or weakness of those which are privy to it. A plotter of Treason puts his head into the halter, and the halter into his hand to whom he first imparts it. Maxim 1. He oftentimes reveals it, and by making a footstool of his friend's head, climbs up the higher into the Prince's favour. 2 Some men's souls are not strong enough, but that a weighty secret will work a hole through them. These rather out of folly than falseness, unawares let fall words, which are taken up by the judicious ears of such who can spell Treason by putting together distracted syllables, and by piecing of broken sentences. Others have their hearts swollen so great with hope of what they shall get, that their bodies are too little to hold them, and so betray themselves by threaten and blustering language. Others have cut their throats with their own hands, their own writings, the best records, being produced against them. And here we must know, That 3 Strong presumptions sometimes serve for proofs in point of Treason: For it being a deed of darkness, it is madness to look that the sun should shine at midnight, and to expect evident proof. Should Princes delay till they did plainly see Treason, they might chance to feel it first. If this semiplena probatio lights on a party suspected before, the party himself is the other part of the proof, and makes it complete. And here the Rack, though Fame-like it be Tam ficti pravique tenax, quam nuncia veri, is often used; and the wooden horse hath told strange secrets. But grant it pass undiscovered in the plotting, it is commonly prevented in the practising, By the majesty, 4 Innocency, or Valour of the Prince, or his attendants. Some have been dazzled with the divine beams shining in a Prince's face, so that coming to command his life, they could not be masters of their own senses. Innocency hath protected others, and made their enemies relent; and pity (though a stranger to him for many years before) hath visited a traitors heart in that very instant. If these fail, a King's valour hath defended him; it being most true of a King, what Pliny reports of a * Nat. hist. lib. 8. cap. 16. lion, in hunting if he be wounded and not killed, he will be sure to eye and kill him that wounded him. Some by flourishing aforehand, 5 have never stricken a blow: but by warning have armed those to whom they threatened. Thus mad Somervile, coming to kill Queen Elizabeth, by the way (belike to try whether his sword would cut) quarrelled with and wounded one or two, and therefore was apprehended before he came to the Court. The palsy of guiltiness hath made the stoutest traitors hands to shake, 6 sometimes to miss their mark. Their conscience sleeping before, is then awakened with this crying sin. The way seems but short to a Traveller when he views it from the top of an hill, who finds it very long when he comes into the plain: so Treason surveyed in the heat of blood, and from the height of passion, seems easy to be effected; which reviewed in cold blood on even terms, is full of dangers and difficulties. If it speed in the acting, generally it's revenged afterwards: For, 7 A King though killed is not killed, so long as he hath son or subject surviving. Many who have thought they have discharged the debt, have been broken afterwards with the arrearages. As for journeymen-Traytours who work for others, their wages are ever paid them with an halter; and where one gaineth a garland of bays, hundreds have had a wreath of hemp. CHAP. 16. The Pazzians conspiracy. IN the city of Anno 1478. April 26. The sum hereof is taken out of Machiavels Florent. Hist lib. 8. pag. 407. & sequent. Florence, being then a Popular State, the honourable family De-medices' managed all chief affairs, so beloved of the people for their bounty, that the honour they had was not extorted by their greatness, but seemed due to their goodness. These Mediceans depressed the Pazzians, another family in that State, as big set, though not so high grown, as the Medicei themselves, loading them with injuries, and debarring them not only from Offices in the city, but their own right. The Pazzians, though highly wronged, counterfeited much patience, and, which was a wonder, though malice boiled hot in their hearts, yet no scum ran over in their mouths. At last, meeting together, they concluded, that seeing the legal way was stopped with violence, the violent way was become legal, whereby they must right themselves; and they determined to invite Julian and Laurence Medici's, the governors of the State, to dinner, with Cardinal Raphael Riarius, and there to murder them. The matter was counted easy, because these two brethren were but one in effect, their heads in a manner standing on the same shoulders, because they always went together, and were never asunder. Fifty were privy to this plot; each had his office assigned him. Baptista Monteseccius was to kill Laurence, Francis Pazzius and Bernardus Bandinius were to set on Julian, whilst the Archbishop of Pisa, one of their allies, was with a band of men to seize on the Senate-house. Cardinal Raphael's company rather than assistance was required, being neither to hunt, nor kill, but only to start the game, and by his presence to bring the two brothers to the dinner. All appointed the next morning to meet at mass, in the chief Church of S. Reparata. Here meeting together, all the design was dashed: for here they remembered that Julian de Medici's never used to * Machiav. disput. de Repub. lib. 3. cap. 6. pag. 397. dine. This they knew before, but considered not till now, as if formerly the vapours arising out of their ambitious hearts had clouded their understanding. Some advised to refer it to another time, which others thought dangerous, conceiving they had sprung so many leaks of suspicion, it was impossible to stop them, and feared, there being so many privy to the plot, that if they suffered them to consult with their pillows, their pillows would advise them to make much of their heads; wherefore not daring to stay the seasonable ripening of their design, they were forced in heat of passion to parch it up presently, and they resolved to take the matter at the first bound, and to commit the murder (they intended at dinner) here in the Church, taking it for granted, the two Mediceans would come to mass, according to their daily custom. But changing their stage, they were fain also to alter their actors. Monteseccius would not be employed in the business, to slain a sacred place with blood; and the breaking of this string put their plot quite out of tune. And though Anthony Volateran and Stephen a Priest were substituted in his room, yet these two made not one fit person; so great is the difference betwixt a choice and a shift. When the Host was elevated, they were to assault them; and the Sacrament was a sign to them, not of Christ's death past, but of a murder they were to commit. But here again they were at a loss. Treason, like Pope Adrian, may be choked with a fly, and marred with the least unexpected casualty. Though Laurence was at Church, Julian was absent. And yet by beating about, they recovered this again: for Francis Pazzius and Bernard Bandinius going home to his house, with compliments and courteous discourse brought him to the Church. Then Bandinius with a dagger stabbed him to the heart, so that he fell down dead, and Francis Pazzius insulting over his corpse (now no object of valour but cruelty) gave it many wounds, till blinded with revenge, he struck a deep gash into his own thigh. But what was over-measure in them, in overacting their parts, was wanting in Anthony and Stephen, who were to kill Laurence in the Quire. You * Machiav. disp. de Repub. lib. 3. cap. 6. pag. 399. traitor, said Anthony; and with that Laurence starting back avoided the strength of the blow, and was wounded only to honour, not danger, and so recovered a strong chapel. Thus Malice, which vents itself in threatening, warns men to shun it, and like hollow singing bullets, flies but halfway to the mark. With as bad success did the Archbishop of Pisa seize on the Senate-house, being conquered by the Lords therein assembled, and, with many of his Complices, hung out of a window. The Pazzians now betake themselves to their last refuge which their desperate courses had left them. James the chief of their family with one hundred more repair to the marketplace, and there cry, Liberty, Liberty. A few followed them at first, but the snowball by rolling did rather melt then gather, and those, who before had seen the foul face of their treason naked, would not be alured to love it now masked with the pretences of the public good; and at last, the whole strength of the State subdued them. Every tree about the city bore the fruit of men's heads, and limbs: many were put to death with torment, more with shame, and only one Renatus Pazzius with pity, who loved his conscience better than his kindred, that he would not be active in the conspiracy; and yet his kindred better than his conscience, that he would not reveal it; Treason being like some kind of strong poison, which though never taken inwardly by cordial consenting unto it, yet kill's by being held in one's hand, and concealing it. Chap. 17. The Tyrant. A Tyrant * He is twofold, 1. In Titulo, (properly an Usurper. 2. In Exercitio, whom we only describe. is one whose list is his law, making his subjects his slaves. Yet that is but a tottering kingdom which is founded on trembling people, which fear and hate their sovereign. He gets all places of advantage into his own hands: yea he would disarm his subjects of all scythes and pruning hooks, Maxim 1. but for fear of a general rebellion of weeds and thistles in the land. He takes the Laws at the first, 2 rather by undermining then assault: And therefore to do unjustly with the more justice, he counterfeits a legality in all his proceed, and will not butcher a man without a Statute for it. Afterwards he rageth freely in innocent blood. 3 Is any man virtuous? then he is a traitor, and let him die for it, who durst presume to be good when his Prince is bad. Is he beloved? he is a rebel, hath proclaimed himself King, and reigns already in people's affections, it must cost him his life. Is he of kin to the Crown, though so fare off that his alliance is scarce to be derived? all the veins of his body must be drained, and emptied to find there and fetch thence that dangerous drop of royal blood. And thus having taken the prime men away, the rest are easily subdued. In all these particulars Machiavelli is his only confessor, who in his Prince seems to him to resolve all these cases of conscience to be very lawful. Worst men are his greatest favourites. 4 He keeps a constant kennel of bloodhounds to accuse whom he pleaseth. These will depose more than any can suppose, not sticking to swear that they heard fishes speak, and saw through a millstone at midnight: these fear not to forswear, but fear they shall not forswear enough, to cleave the pin and do the deed. The less credit they have, the more they are believed, and their very accusation is held a proof. 5 He leaves nothing that his poor subjects can call their own but their miseries. And as in the West-Indies thousands of kine are killed for their tallow alone, and their flesh cast away: so many men are murdered merely for their wealth, that other men may make mummy of the fat of their estates. 6 He counts men in misery the most melodious instruments: Especially if they be well tuned and played upon by cunning Musicians, who are artificial in tormenting them, the more the merrier, and if he hath a set, and full consort of such tortured miserable souls, he danceth most cheerfully at the pleasant ditty of their dying groans. He loves not to be prodigal of men's lives, but thriftily improves the objects of his cruelty, spending them by degrees, and epicurizing on their pain: So that as Philoxenus wished a crane's throat, he could desire asses ears, the longer to entertain their hideous and miserable roaring. Thus Nature had not racks enough for men (the colic, Gout, Stone, etc.) but Art must add to them, and devils in flesh antedate hell here in inventing torments; which when inflicted on malefactors, extort pity from merciful beholders, (and make them give what is not due) but when used by Tyrants on innocent people, such tender hearts as stand by suffer what they see, and by the proxy of sympathy feel what they behold. 7 He seeks to suppress all memorials and writings of his actions: And as wicked Tereus after he had ravished Philomela cut out her tongue; so when Tyrants have wronged and abused the times they live in, they endeavour to make them speechless to tell no tales to posterity. Herein their folly is more to be admired then their malice, for learning can never be dreined dry: though it may be damned up for one Age, yet it will break over; and Historians pens, being long kept fasting, will afterwards feed more greedily on the memories of Tyrants, and describe them to the full. Yea, I believe their ink hath made some tyrant's blacker than they were in their true complexion. At last he is haunted with the terrors of his own conscience. 7 If any two do but whisper together (whatsoever the Propositions be) he conceives their discourse concludes against him. Company and solitariness are equally dreadful unto him, being never safe; and he wants a Guard to guard him from his Guard, and so proceeds in infinitum. * Comineus Comment. lib. 1. juxta finem The Scouts of Charles Duke of Burgundy brought him news that the French army was hard by, being nothing else but a field full of high thistles, whose tops they mistook for so many spears: On lesser ground this Tyrant conceives greater fears. Thus in vain doth he seek to fence himself from without, whose foe is within him. He is glad to patch up a bad night's sleep, 8 out of pieces of slumber. They seldom sleep sound, who have blood for their bolster. His fancy presents him with strange masks, wherein only Fiends and Furies are actors. The fright awakes him, and he is no sooner glad that it was a dream, but fears it is prophetical. In vain he courts the friendship of foreign Princes. 9 They defy his amity, and will not join their clean hands with his bloody ones. Sometimes to ingratiate himself he doth some good acts, but virtue becomes him worse than vice, for all know he counterfeits it for his own ends. 10 Having lived in other men's blood, he dies commonly in his own. He had his will all his life, but seldom makes his Testament at his death, being suddenly taken away either by a private hand, or a public insurrection. It is observed of the camel that it lies quietly down till it hath its full load, and then riseth up. But this Vulgus is a kind of beast, which riseth up soon when it is overladen; immoderate cruelty causing it to rebel. Yet Fero is a fit motto than Ferio for Christians in their carriage towards lawful authority, though unlawfully used. We will give a double example of a Tyrant: the one an absolute sovereign, the other a Substitute or viceroy under an absolute Prince. CHAP. 18. The life of ANDRONICUS. ANdronicus Comnenus, * The sum of this chapter is taken out of Nicetas Choniates his annals lib. 1. & 2. of Andronic. Comnenus. descended of the Grecian imperial blood, was a Prince most vicious in his life, and perfidious in his dealing, and for his several offences, after long banishment, was at length by Emmanuel the Grecian Emperor, his kinsman, confined to a private city in Paphlagonia. Here Andronicus hugged himself in his privacy, though all that time he did but level, and take aim, intending at last to shoot at the Empire, though for a while he lay very still, and with the Hedgehog seemingly dead, he rounded himself up in his own prickles without any motion. Leave we him there, and come to behold the face of the Grecian Empire, which presents us with all the symptoms of a dying State. Emmanuell being dead Alexius his son succeeds him, a Minor of twelve years of age, wanting wit to guide himself, and his friends care to govern him. Xena the Mother-Empresse wholly given to her pleasures, with her minion Alexius Protosebastus, who ruled all in the State. The Nobility factious, snatching what they could get, and counting violent possession the best and only title. The people of Constantinople valiant only to make mutinies on every occasion, in confused multitudes, without any martial discipline; as who could expect that a rolling snowball should have any curious fashion? Andronicus, hearing of these misdemeanours, found that opportunity courted him to procure the Empire for himself. Wherefore he remonstrates to the whole world the great grief he conceived at these disorders: For though patience had made him past feeling of any private injuries offered to himself, yet he must be stark dead indeed, if he were not moved with these general miseries of the Empire. He being a Prince of the blood could not without grief behold how Xena the Empress, and Protosebastus had conspired to abuse the tender age of young Alexius, so to draw all dominion to themselves; and who kowing that their strength consisted in the young Emperor's weakness, intended so to breed him, that in point of judgement he should never be of age, and only able in pleasures. Whereupon Andronicus resolved to free his young kinsman, and the Empire from this thraldom. Treason is so uggly in herself, that every one that sees it will cast stones at it, which makes her seldom appear but with a borrowed face, for the good of the Commonwealth; but especially when ambition hath caught hold on pretended religion, how fast will it climb? Andronicus with an army of Paphlagonians marched to Constantinople, in which city he had a great party on his side, Maria Cesarissa, half sister to the Emperor, with her husband, and many other good Patriots, which bemoaned the distempers in the State, applying themselves to Andronicus for help, counting a bad physician better than none at all. Besides, there were in the city many turbulent spirits, desirous of alterations, as profitable unto them, counting themselves the petty-Landlords of the times, to whom rich fines and herriots would accrue upon every exchange, and all those took part with Andronicus. Many more did Andronicus win to his party by his cunning behaviour, for he could speak both eloquently and religiously. He would ordinarily talk Scripture-language (often foully misapplyed) as if his memory were a Concordance of the whole Bible, but especially of S. Paul's Epistles, which he had by heart. Besides, no man had better command of rain and sunshine in his face, to smile and weep at pleasure: his tears flowed at will, which caught the affections of many, though others, better acquainted with his tricks, no more pitied his weeping, than they bemoaned the moist dropping of stone walls against rainy weather. Small resistance was made against him, only some seemed to fight against him in compliment, so that with ease he made himself master of Constantinople, and not long after he caused Xena the Empress to be choked, the eyes of whose Favourite Protosebastus he had formerly bored out. The next care of Andronicus was to cut off all those steps by which he had ascended to this height, lest leaving those stairs still standing, others also might climb up the same way. All those friends who had assisted him in this his design, he rewarded with death: yea though at first his cruelty might seem to shoot at a mark, in taking of some prime men, for whose death some reason might be rendered, his malice afterwards shot at rovers, as if he had a quarrel at mankind, killing all he came near. When any party accused recriminated the accuser, the sword of Andronicus cut on both sides; the accuser and accused were sent the same way, and what cup one begins, the other was made to pledge. Those Sycophants which ingratiated themselves with him, escaped no better than others, it being equally dangerous to please and displease him. Men met every where with his cruelty, but no where with the reasons thereof. But who can expect other reasons of tyrants' actions, but that they are tyrants' actions? But his dealing with young Alexius the Emperor (whose death was methodically contrived with some politic pauses) deserves observation. At first entrance into the city, Andronicus observed his awful distance towards the Emperor, teaching others that the minority of Princes ought not to lessen their subject's reverence unto them. Afterwards, he emboldened himself to make his nearer approaches, challenging in young Alexius that interest which careful tutors claim in those whose protection they tender. Hence he proceeded to set a guard about him, not to defend but watch him, and to guard him from his friends; who, though allowed to follow his sports in hunting, was indeed made sport of himself, and the hunter kept in a net. Then Andronicus was forced by his friend's importunity (whom he himself had secretly importuned) to be elected joynt-Emperour with Alexius, and with much unwillingness this great dissembler (who could have taught Tiberius' craft, and Nero cruelty) was driven up the imperial throne. Next day in all public Edicts the name of Andronicus was set before Alexius, it seeming preposterous that a child should be preferred before so sage and grave a man. Hitherto the life of Alexius was profitable to Andronicus, but now his death would be more behooveful. Wherefore Andronicus counting it cumbersome now any longer to wear a cloak in the sunshine and heat of his happiness, abandoned all useless dissembling, and appeared like himself. The next news we hear of Alexius, is that his neck is broken with a bowstring by command from Andronicus; 1181 his body was spurned and abused, a hole bored in his ear with a spit, his head cut off, and shamefully dealt with, his body cast into the sea, with many more cruel outrages, as much against policy as piety, and not only needless, but scandalous to Andronicus. Thus Tyrants, having once given the rains to their cruelty, are not able to stop themselves. But this innocent blood cried to God for revenge, and obtained it. Next year Isaacius Angelus was chosen Emperor by the people, and Andronicus chased out of the city and pursued after. Andronicus got into a ship, and had conveyed himself away, had not the winds and the waves (as if knowing him though disguised) refused to be accessary to his escape, and beaten him back again, till he was taken by his pursuers. Being carried into the presence of Isaacius the new Emperor, he there was beaten, spurned, kicked on, and had an arm cut off, and an eye bored out. But all this was mercy, in respect of what he next day suffered by the rascal multitude, being carried on a scabbed camel thorough Constantinople, happy he that could do most unhappiness unto him: all sorts of people sought to mischief him, throwing that upon him, in comparison whereof that which runneth in the channel may be counted rose-water. Thus orphans thought to revenge the death of their fathers, widows of their husbands: one ran him thorough with a spit, another threw scalding water in his face. At last he could hardly die, being hanged up by the feet betwixt two pillars after a thousand abuses offered unto him. It may seem miraculous how his body could make room for all their blows, or that he so old a man could find so many lives for their cruelty, were it not that passing with some speed thorough the city, few had their full blows at him; and they were somewhat mannerly in their revenge, in that they would not take all to themselves, but leave some to others. And indeed after long throwing of dirt upon him, their darts became his shield, being so covered over with the filth, that the mire kept him from the mire. All which time he broke not out into any impatience, but still cried, Lord have mercy upon me, and, Why break you a bruised reed? and bore all with an invincible quietness of mind. Surely God measured unto him a time of repentance by a large hourglass; and haply (it were tyranny to think otherwise of the worst Tyrant) the tempest of the people's fury might drive his soul to the best * See bow charitably Drexelius is opinioned of him in his book de Aeternitate, Consider. 5. Sect. 3. shelter, the mercy of the God of heaven. It is a good sign when one hath his hell in this world, and true repentance is never too late. As for those that hold repentance on the deathbed unprofitable, by this their tenet they would make heaven very empty, and yet never a whit the more room therein for the maintainers of so uncharitable an opinion. Andronicus reigned two years, having a beautiful aspect, and majestic stature, almost ten foot high, of a strong constitution, advantaged by the temperateness of his diet. In all his life time he took but one antidote, and never purged but once, and then the physic found no obnoxious humour to work upon, so healthful was his temper. His death happened Anno Dom. 1183. FERDINAND Alvarez de Toledo Duke of Alva, Viceroy of the Netherlands under Philip the 2d. He died in Portugal Anno Dni 1582. in the ●75. Year of his Age. W.M. sculp: CHAP. 19 The life of Duke D'ALVA. FErdinand Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva, one bred abroad in the world in several wars (whom Charles the fifth more employed, then affected, using his churlish nature to hue knotty service) was by Philip the second, King of Spain, appointed governor of the Netherlands. At his first arrival there, the loyalty of the Netherlanders to the King of Spain was rather out of joint, then broken off, as not being weary of his government but their own grievances. The wound was rather painful then deadly, only the skirts of their lungs were tainted, sending out discontented not rebellious breath, much regretting that their privileges, Civil and ecclesiastical, were infringed, and they grinded with exactions against their Laws and Liberties. But now Duke D'Alva coming amongst them, he intended to cancel all their charters with his sword, and to reduce them to absolute obedience. And whereas every city was fenced not only with several walls, but different local liberties, and municipal immunities, he meant to lay all their privileges level, and casting them into a flat to stretch a line of absolute command over them. He accounted them a Nation rather stubborn then valiant, and that not from stoutness of nature, but want of correction, through the long indulgence of their late governors. He secretly accused Margaret Duchess of Parma, the last governess, for too much gentleness towards them, as if she meant to cure a gangrened arm with a lenitive plaster, & affirmed that a Lady's hands were too soft to pluck up such thistles by the root. Wherefore the said Duchess, soon after D'Alva's arrival (counting it less shame to set, then to be outshined) petitioned to resign her regency, and returned into Italy. To welcome the Duke at his entrance, he was entertained with prodigies and monstrous * Famianus Stra. de Bell● Belgico, p. 430. births, Ann. Dom. 1568. which happened in sundry places; as if Nature on set purpose mistook her mark, and made her hand to swerve, that she might shoot a warning-piece to these countries, and give them a watchword of the future calamities they were to expect. The Duke, nothing moved hereat, proceeds to effect his project, and first sets up the Counsel of troubles, consisting of twelve, the Duke being the precedent. And this counsel was to order all things in an arbitrary way, without any appeal from them. Of these twelve some were strangers, such as should not sympathise with the miseries of the country; others were upstarts, men of no blood, and therefore most bloody; who being themselves grown up in a day, cared not how many they cut down in an hour. And now rather to give some colour, than any virtue to this new composition of counsellors, four Dutch Lords were mingled with them, that the native Nobility might not seem wholly neglected. Castles were built in every city to bridle the inhabitants, and garrisons put into them. New Bishops Seas erected in several cities, and the Inquisition brought into the country. This Inquisition, first invented against the moors, as a trap to catch vermin, was afterwards used as a snare to catch sheep, yea they made it heresy for to be rich. And though all these proceed were contrary to the solemn oath King Philip had taken, yet the Pope (who only keeps an Oath-office, and takes power to dispense with men's consciences) granted him a faculty to set him free from his promise. Sure as some adventurous Physicians, when they are posed with a mongrel disease, drive it on set purpose into a fever, that so knowing the kind of the malady they may the better apply the cure: So Duke D'Alva was minded by his cruel usage to force their discontents into open rebellion, hoping the better to come to quench the fire when it blazed out, then when it smoked and smothered. And now to frighten the rest, with a subtle train he seizeth on the Earls of Egmond and Horn. These counted themselves armed with innocence and desert, having performed most excellent service for the King of Spain. But when subject's deserts are above their Prince's requital, oftentimes they study not so much to pay their debts, as to make away their creditors. All these victories could not excuse them, nor the laurel wreaths on their heads keep their necks from the axe, and the rather, because their eyes must first be closed up, which would never have patiently beheld the enslaving of their country. The French ambassador was at their execution, and wrote to his Master Charles the ninth, King of France, concerning the Earl of Egmond, * Fam. Strad. de bell. Belgico, pag. 449. That he saw that head struck off in the marketplace of Brussels, whose valour had twice made France to shake. This counsel of troubles having once tasted Noble blood, drank their bellyfuls afterwards. Then descending to inferior persons by apprehensions, executions, confiscations, and banishments, they raged on men's lives and states. Such as upon the vain hope of pardon returned to their houses, were apprehended, and executed by fire, water, gibbets, and the sword, and other kinds of deaths and torments: yea the bodies of the dead (on whom the earth as their common mother bestowed a grave for a child's portion) were cast out of their * Grimst. Hist. of the Netherlands, pag. 413. tombs by the Duke's command, whose cruelty outstunk the noisomeness of their carcases. And lest the maintaining of garrisons might be burdensome to the King his Master, he laid heavy impositions on the people: the Duke affirming that these countries' were fat enough to be stewed in their own liquor, & that the soldiers here might be maintained by the profits arising hence; yea he boasted that he had found the mines of Peru in the Low-countrieses, though the digging of them out never quitted the cost. He demanded the hundredth penny of all their movable and immovable goods, and besides that, the tenth penny of their movable goods that should be bought and sold, with the twentieth penny of their immovable goods; without any mention of any time, how long those taxes and exactions should continue. The States protested against the injustice hereof, alleging that all trading would be pressed to death under the weight of this taxation: weaving of stuffs (their staple trade) would soon decay, and their shuttles would be very slow, having so heavy a clog hanging on them; yea hereby the same commodity must pay a new toll at every passage into a new trade. This would dishearten all industry, and make laziness and painfulness both of a rate, when beggary was the reward of both, by reason of this heavy imposition, which made men pay dear for the sweat of their own brows. And yet the weight did not grieve them so much, as the hand which laid it on, being imposed by a foreign power against their ancient privilege. Hereupon many Netherlanders, finding their own country too hot, because of intolerable taxes, sought out a more temperate climate, and fled over into England. As for such as stayed behind, their hearts being brimful before with discontents, now ran over. 'Tis plain these wars had their original, not out of the Church, but the statehouse. Liberty was true doctrine to Papist and Protestant, Jew and Christian. It is probable that in Noah's Ark the wolf agreed with the lamb, and that all creatures drowned their antipathy, whilst all were in danger of drowning. Thus all several religions made up one Commonwealth to oppose the Spaniard: and they thought it high time for the Cow to find her horns, when others not content to milk her, went about to cut off her bag. It was a rare happiness that so many should meet in one chief, William of Nassaw, Prince of Orange, whom they chose their governor. Yea he met their affections more than halfway in his loving behaviour; so that Alva's cruelty did not drive more from him, than Nassaw's courtesy invited to him. His popular nature was of such receipt, that he had room to lodge all comers. In people's eyes his light shined bright, yet dazzled none, all having free access unto him: every one was as well pleased as if he had been Prince himself, because he might be so familiar with the Prince. He was wont to content those, who reproved his too much humanity, with this saying, * Bar●l. Icon. Anim. cap. 5. That man is cheap bought, who costs but a salutation. I report the Reader to the Belgian Histories, where he may see the changes of war betwixt these two sides. We will only observe that Duke D'Alva's covetousness was above his policy in fencing the rich inland and neglecting the barren maritime places. He only looked on the broad gates of the country whereby it openeth to the continent of Germany and France, whilst in the mean time almost half the Netherlands ran out at the postern door towards the sea. Nassaw's side then wounded Achilles in the heel indeed, and touched the Spaniard to the quick, when on Palm-sunday (as if the day promised victory) at Brill they took the first livery and season of the land, and got soon after most cities towards the sea. Had Alva herein prevented him, probably he had made those Provinces as low in subjection as situation. Now at last he began to be sensible of his error, and grew weary of his command, desiring to hold that staff no longer, which he perceived he had taken by the wrong end. He saw that going about to bridle the Netherlanders with building of castles in many places, they had gotten the bit into their own teeth: He saw that war was not quickly to be hunted out of that country, where it had taken covert in a wood of cities: He saw the cost of some one cities siege would pave the streets thereof with silver, each city, ●ort, and sconce being a Gordian knot, which would make Alexander's sword turn edge before he could cut thorough it, so that this war and the world were likely to end together, these Netherlands being like the head-block in the chimney, where the fire of war is always kept in (though out every where else) never quite quenched though raked up sometimes in the ashes of a truce. Besides, he saw that the subdued part of the Netherlands obeyed more for fear then love, and their loyalty did rather lie in the Spanish garrisons, than their own hearts, and that in their sighs they breathed many a prosperous gale to Nassaw's party: Lastly, he saw that foreign Princes, having the Spaniards greatness in suspicion, desired he might long be digesting this breakfast, lest he should make his dinner on them, both France and England counting the Low-countrieses their outworks to defend their walls: wherefore he petitioned the King of Spain his Master to call him home from this unprofitable service. Then was he called home, and lived some years after in Spain, being well respected of the King, and employed by him in conquering Portugal, contrary to the expectation of most, who looked that the King's displeasure would fall heavy on him, for causing by his cruelty the defection of so many countries; yet the King favourably reflected on him, perchance to frustrate on purpose the hopes of many, and to show that King's affections will not tread in the beaten path of vulgar expectation: or seeing that the Duke's life and state could amount to poor satisfaction for his own losses, he thought it more Princely to remit the whole, then to be revenged but in part: or lastly, because he would not measure his servants loyalty by the success, and lay the unexpected rubs in the ally to the bowlers fault, who took good aim though missing the mark. This led many to believe that Alva only acted the Kings will, and not willed his acts, following the instructions he received, and rather going beyond then against his Commission. However most barbarous was his cruelty. He bragged as he sat at dinner (and was it not a good grace after meat) that he had caused eighteen thousand to be executed by the ordinary minister of justice within the space of six years, besides an infinite more murdered by other tyrannous means. Yea some men he killed many times, giving order to the executioners to pronounce each syllable of torment long upon them, that the thread of their life might not be cut off but unravelled, as counting it no pain for men to die, except they died with pain; witness Anthony Utenhow, whom he caused to be tied to a stake with a chain in * Grimst. Hist. of the Netherlands, pag. 411. brussels, compassing him about with a great fire, but not touching him, turning him round about like a poor beast, who was forced to live in that great torment and extremity, roasting before the fire so long, until the Halberdiers themselves, having compassion on him, thrust him through, contrary to the will both of the Duke and the Spanish Priests. When the city of Harlem surrendered themselves unto him on condition to have their lives, he suffered some of the soldiers and burghers thereof to be starved to death, saying that though he promised to give them their lives, he did not promise to find them meat. The Netherlanders used to fright their children with telling them, Duke. D'Alva was coming; and no wonder if children were scared with him, of whom their fathers were afraid. He was one of a lean body and visage, as if his eager soul, biting for anger at the clog of his body, desired to fret a passage through it. He had this humour, that he neglected the good counsel of others, especially if given him before he asked it, and had rather stumble than beware of a block of another man's telling. But as his life was a miroir of cruelty, so was his death of God's patience. It was admirable, that his tragical acts should have a comical end; that he that sent so many to the grave, should go to his own, & die in peace. But God's justice on offenders goes not always in the same path, nor the same pace: And he is not pardoned for the fault, who is for a while reprived from the punishment; yea sometimes the guest in the inn goes quietly to bed, before the reckoning for his supper is brought to him to discharge. FINIS.