The Arte of Rhetorique
Thomas Wilson
Introduction
| Book I | Book II | Book
III
Note on the e-text: this
Renascence Editions text was transcribed by Judy Boss, Omaha, NE,
1998, from Wilson's Arte of Rhetorique 1560. Oxford:
Clarendon
Press, 1909. Ed. G. H. Mair.
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The
arte of Rhetorique.
What is Rhetorique.
Hetorique is an Arte to set foorth by
vtteraunce of
words,
matter at large, or (as Cicero doth say) it is a learned, or
rather an artificiall declaration of the mynd, in the handling
of any cause, called in contention, that may through reason
largely be discussed.
¶ The matter
whereupon an
Oratour must speake.
Rhetorique occupied |
about all lawes, |
concerning man. |
AN Orator must be able to
speake fully of al those questions,
which by lawe & mans ordinance are enacted, and appointed for the
vse and profite of man, such as are thought apt for the tongue to set
forwarde. Nowe Astronomie is rather learned by demonstration,
then taught by any great vtterance. Arithmetique smally needeth
the vse of Eloquence, seeing it may be had wholy by nombring only. Geometrie
rather asketh a good square, then a cleane flowing tongue to
set out the art. Therefore an Orators profession, is to speake
only of all such matters, as may largely be expounded for
mans behoue, and may with much grace be set out, for all
men to heare them.
¶ Of questions.
EVery question or demaund in
things, is of two sortes. Either it is an infinite question, &
without end, or els it is definite, and comprehended within some ende.
Those questions are called
infinite, which generally are propounded, without the comprehension of
tyme, place, and persone, or any such like: that is to say, when no
certaine
thing is named, but onely words are generally spoken. As
thus, whether it be best to marrie, or to liue single. Which
is better, a courtiers life, or a Scholers life.
Those questions are called
definite, which set forth a matter, with the appointment and naming of
place, time, and person. As thus. Whether now it be best here in
Englande, for a
Priest to Marrie, or to liue single. Whether it were meete
for the kings Maiestie that nowe is,
to marrie with a stranger,
or to marrie with one of his owne Subiects. Now the definite
Questions definite, belong |
properly to an Orator. |
question (as the which concerneth some one person) is most
agreeing to the purpose of an Orator, considering particuler
matters in the law, are euer debated betwixt certaine persons,
the one affirming for his parte, and the other denying as fast
againe for his parte.
Thinges generally spoken
without all circumstaunces, are
more proper vnto the Logician, who talketh of thinges vniuersally,
Questions infinite, |
proper vnto |
Logicians. |
without respect of person, time, or place. And yet
notwithstanding, Tullie doth say, that whosoeuer will talke of
particuler matter must remember, that within the same also
is comprehended a generall. As for example. If I shall aske
this question, whether it bee lawfull for William Conquerour
to inuade England, and win it by force of Armour, I must
also consider this, whether it bee lawfull for any man to
vsurpe power, or it bee not lawful. That if the greater
cannot be borne withall, the lesse can not bee neither. And
in this respect, a generall question agreeth well to an Orators
profession, and ought well to bee knowne for the better
furtheraunce of his matter, notwithstanding the particuler
question is euer called in controuersie, and the generall only
thereupon considered, to comprehend and compasse the same,
as the which is more generall.
¶ The ende of
Rhetorique.
Three thinges are required of an Orator.
Orators bound |
to performe |
three thinges. |
{To teach. |
{To delight. |
{And to perswade. |
FIrst therefore, an Orator must
labour to tell his tale,
that the hearers may well knowe what he meaneth, and
vnderstand him wholy, the which he shall with ease vse, if he
Plaine words |
proper vnto |
an Orator. |
vtter his minde in plaine words, such as are vsually receiued,
and tell it orderly, without going about the bush. That if he
doe not this, he shall neuer doe the other. For what man
can be delited, or yet be perswaded with the only hearing of
those thinges, which he knoweth not what they meane. The
tongue is ordeined to expresse the minde, that one may
vnderstand an others meaning: now what auaileth to speake,
when none can tell what the speaker meaneth? Therefore
Phauorinus the Philosopher (as Gellius
telleth the tale) did hit
a yong man ouer the Thumbes very handsomely, for vsing ouer
old, and ouer straunge wordes. Sirha (quoth he) when our olde
great auncesters and Graundsires were aliue, they spake
plainly in their mothers tongue, and vsed olde language, such
A Philosophers |
wittie saying to a |
yong man that |
sought to speake |
dark language. |
as was spoken then at the building of Roome. But you talke
me such a Latine, as though you spake with them euen now,
that were two or three thousand yeres agoe, and onely
because you would haue no man to vnderstand what you say.
Now, were it not better for thee a thousande fold, (thou foolish
fellowe) in seeking to haue thy desire, to holde thy peace, and
speake nothing at all? For then by that meanes, fewe should
knowe what were thy meaning. But thou saiest, the olde
antiquitie doth like thee best, because it is good, sober, and
modest. Ah, liue man, as they did before thee, and speake
thy mind now as men doe at this day. And remember that
which Cæsar saieth, beware as long as thou liuest of
straunge
wordes, as thou wouldest take heede and eschue great Rockes
in the Sea.
The next part that he hath
to play, is to chere his geastes,
and to make them take pleasure, with hearing of thinges
Orators must vse delitefull |
wordes and sayinges. |
wittely deuised, and pleasauntly set foorth. Therefore euery
Orator should earnestly labour to file his tongue, that his
words may slide with ease, and that in his deliueraunce he
may have such grace, as the sound of a Lute, or any such
Instrument doth giue. Then his sentences must be wel
framed, and his words aptly vsed, through the whole discourse
of his Oration.
Thirdly, such quicknesse of
witte must bee shewed, and such
pleasaunt sawes so well applied, that the eares may finde
much delite, whereof I will speake largely, when I shall
intreate of mouing laughter. And assuredly nothing is more
needfull, then to quicken these heauie loden wittes of ours,
Preachers not so diligently |
heard as common Players. |
and much to cherish these our lompish and vnweldie Natures,
for except men finde delite, they will not long abide: delite
them, and winne them: wearie them, and you lose them for
euer. And that is the reason, that men commonly tarie the
ende of a merie Play, and cannot abide the halfe hearing of
a sower checking Sermon. Therefore euen these auncient
Preachers, must now and then play the fooles in the pulpit, to
serue the tickle eares of their fleting
audience, or els they are
like sometimes to preach to the bare walles, for though their
spirite bee apt, and our will prone, yet our flesh is so heauie,
and humours so ouerwhelme vs, that we cannot without
Preachers must sometimes be |
mery when they speake |
to the people. |
Deliting needful. |
Scurrilitie odious. |
Affections must be moued. |
refreshing, long abide to heare any one thing. Thus we see,
that to delite is needfull, without the which weightie matters
will not be heard at all, and therefore him cunne I thanke,
that both can and will ever, mingle sweete among the sower,
be he Preacher, Lawyer, yea, or Cooke either hardly, when
hee dresseth a good dish of meate: now I need not to tell
that scurrilitie, or ale-house iesting, would bee thought odious,
or grosse mirth would be deemed madnesse: considering that
euen the meane witted do knowe that alreadie, and as for
other that haue no wit, they will neuer learne it, therfore
God speede them. Now when these two are done, hee must
perswade, and moue the affections of his hearers in such wise,
that they shalbe forced to yeeld vnto his saying, whereof
(because the matter is large, and may more aptly be declared,
when I shall speake of Amplification) I will surcease to speake
any thing thereof at this tyme.
¶ By what
meanes Eloquence
is attained.
FIrst needfull it is that hee,
which desireth to excell in this
gift of Oratorie, and longeth to proue an eloquent man,
must naturally haue a wit, and an aptnesse thereunto: then
must he to his Booke, and learne to bee well stored with
knowledge, that he may be able to minister matter for al
causes necessarie. The which when he hath got plentifully,
he must vse much exercise, both in writing, and also in
speaking. For though hee haue a wit and learning together,
Practise maketh |
al things perfect. |
yet shall they both little auaile without much practise. What
maketh the Lawyer to haue such utteraunce? Practise. What
maketh the Preacher to speake so roundly? Practise. Yea,
what maketh women goe so fast awaye with their wordes?
Mary practise I warrant you. Therefore in all faculties,
diligent practise, and earnest exercise, are the onely things
that make men proue excellent. Many men know the art very
well, and be in all points throughly grounded and acquainted
with the precepts, & yet it is not their hap to proue eloquent.
And the reason is, that eloquence it selfe, came not vp first
by the art, but the arte rather was
gathered vpon eloquence.
For wisemen seeing by much obseruation and diligent practise,
Rhetorique first made by wise |
men, and not wisemen |
first made by Rhetorique. |
the compasse of diuers causes, compiled thereupon precepts
and lessons, worthy to be knowne and learned of all men.
Therefore before arte was inuented, eloquence was vsed, and
through practise made perfect, the which in all things is
a soueraigne meane, most highly to excell.
Now, before we vse either to
write, or speake eloquently,
wee must dedicate our myndes wholy, to followe the most
wise and learned men, and seeke to fashion as wel their
Imitation or following the |
waies of wisemen, is needfull. |
speache and gesturing, as their witte or endyting. The which
when we earnestly mynd to doe, we can not but in time
appere somewhat like them. For if they that walke much
in the Sunne, and thinke not of it, are yet for the most part
Sunne burnt, it can not be but that they which wittingly
and willingly trauayle to counterfect other, must needes take
some colour of them, and be like vnto them in some one
thing or other, according to the Prouerbe, by companying
with the wise, a man shall learne wisedome.
¶ To what
purpose this arte is set forthe.
TO this purpose and for this
vse, is the arte compiled
together, by the learned and wisemen, that those which
Rhetorique to what |
purpose it serueth. |
Arte a surer guide |
then Nature. |
are ignorant might iudge of the learned, and labour (when
time should require) to followe their woorkes accordingly.
Againe, the arte helpeth well to dispose and order matters
of our owne inuention, the which wee may followe as
well in speaking as in writing, for though many by nature
without art, haue proued worthy men, yet is arte a surer
guide then nature, considering we see as liuely by arte
what we do, as though we read a thing in writing, where
as Natures doings are not so open to all men. Againe,
those that haue good wittes by Nature, shall better encrease
them by arte, and the blunt also shall bee whetted through
arte, that want Nature to helpe them forward.
¶ Fiue things
to be considered
in an Oratour.
ANy one that will largely
handle any matter, must fasten
his mynde first of all, vppon these fiue especiall pointes
that followe, and learne them euery one.
{i. Inuention of matter. |
{ii. Disposition of the same. |
{iii. Elocution. |
{iiii. Memorie. |
{v. Utteraunce. |
Oratours must have v. things |
to make them perfite. |
THe finding out of apt
matter, called otherwise Inuention,
is a searching out of things true, or things likely, the
which may reasonablie set forth a matter, and make it appeare
probable. The places of Logique, giue good occasion to finde
out plentifull matter. And therefore, they that will proue any
cause, and seeke onely to teach thereby the trueth, must search
out the places of Logique, and no doubt they shall finde much
Inuention, what it is. |
Disposition, what it is. |
plentie. But what auaileth much treasure and apt matter, if
man can not apply it to his purpose. Therefore, in the second
place is mentioned, the setling or ordering of things inuented
for this purpose, called in Latine Dispositio, the which is
nothing els but an apt bestowing, and orderly placing of
things, declaring where euery argument shall be set, and in
what maner euery reason shalbe applied for confirmation of the
purpose.
But yet what helpeth it
though wee can finde good reasons,
and knowe how to place them, if wee haue not apt words and
picked Sentences, to commende the whole matter. Therefore,
Elocution, what it is. |
Memorie, what it is. |
this point must needes followe to beautifie the cause, the which
being called Elocution, is an applying of apt wordes and
sentences to the matter, found out to confirme the cause.
When all these are had together it auaileth little, if man haue
no Memorie to containe them. The Memorie therefore must
be cherished, the which is a fast holding both of matter and
words couched together, to confirme any cause.
Be it now that one haue all
these fower, yet if he want the
fift all the other doe little profite. For though a man can
finde out good matter and good wordes, though hee can
handsomely set them together, and carie them very well awaie
Pronunciation, |
what it is. |
in his minde, yet it is to no purpose if he haue no vtterance,
when he should speake his minde, and shewe men what he
hath to saie. Vtterance therefore, is a framing of the voyce,
countenaunce, and gesture after a comely maner.
Thus we see, that euery one
of these must goe together, to
make a perfite Oratour, and that the lack of one, is a hinderance
of the whole, and that as well all may be wanting as one,
if wee looke to haue an absolute Oratour.
There are seuen
partes in euery Oration.
Orations in general |
consist vpon seuen |
partes[.] |
{i. The Enterance or beginning. |
{ii. The Narration. |
{iii. The Proposition. |
{iiii. The Deuision or seuerall parting of things. |
{v. The [C]onfirmation. |
{vi. The [C]onfutation. |
{vii. The Conclusion. |
The Entraunce or beginning is
the former parte of the
Oration, whereby the will of the standers by, or of the
Iudge is sought for, and required to heare the matter.
The Narration is a plaine and
manifest pointing of the
matter, and an euident setting forth of all things that belong
vnto the same, with a breefe rehersall grounded vpon some
reason.
The proposition is a pithie
sentence comprehended in a
small roome, the somme of the whole matter.
The Deuision is an opening of
things, wherein we agree
and rest vpon, and wherein we sticke and stand in trauers,
shewing what we haue to say in our owne behalfe.
The Confirmation is a
declaration of our owne reasons,
with assured and constant proofes.
The Confutation is a
dissoluing, or wyping away of all such
reasons as make against vs.
The Conclusion is a clarkly
gathering of the matter spoken
before, and a lapping vp of it altogether.
Now, because in euery one of
these greate heede ought to
bee had, and much arte must be vsed, to content and like all
parties: I purpose in the second booke to set foorthe at large
euery one of these, that both we may know in all partes what
to followe, and what to eschue. And first, when time shalbe
to talke of any matter I would aduise euery man to consider the
nature of the cause it self, that the rather he might frame his
whole Oration thereafter.
¶ Euery matter
is contained in
one of these fower.
EIther it is an honest thing
whereof we speake, or els it is
filthie and vile, or els betwixt both: and doubtfull what
Matters in generall stand in |
fower pointes. |
it is to bee called,
or els it
is some trifeling matter, that is
of small weight.
1 That
is called an honest matter, when either we take in
hande such a cause that all men would maintayne, or els
gainsaie such a cause, that no man can well like.
2 Then
doe wee holde and defend a filthie matter, when either
we speake against our owne conscience in an euill matter, or
els withstand an upright trueth.
3 The
cause then is doubtfull, when the matter is halfe
honest, and halfe vnhonest.
4 Such
are trifling causes when there is no weight in them,
as if one should phantasie to praise a goose before any other
beast liuing, (as I knowe who did) or of fruite to commende
Nuttes chiefly, as Ouid did, or the Feuer quartaine as Phauorinus
did, or the Gnat as Virgil did, or the battaile of Frogges
as Homer did, or dispraise beardes, or commend shauen
heddes.
Good heede to be
taken at the first, vpon the handling
of any matter in Iudgement.
Circumstances necessarie in |
all causes to be noted. |
Fauor winning, and affections |
mouing when they are most |
necessarie. |
Aduersaries reasons when |
they should best be confuted. |
NOT onely it is necessarie to
knowe what maner of cause
we haue taken in hande, when we first enter vppon any
matter, but also it is wisedome to consider the tyme, the place,
the man for whom we speake, the man against whom we
speake, the matter whereof we speake, and the Iudges before
whom wee speake, the reasons that best serue to further our
cause, and those reasons also that may seeme somewhat to
hinder our cause, and in nowise to vse any such at all, or els
warely to mitigate by protestation the euill that is in them,
and alwaies to vse whatsoeuer can be saied, to win the chief
hearers good willes, and to perswade them to our purpose. If
the cause goe by fauour, and that reason can not so much
auaile, as good will shal be able to doe: or els if mouing
affections can doe more good, then bringing in of good
reasons, it is meete alwaies to vse that way, whereby wee may
by good helpe get the ouerhand. That if myne aduersaries
reasons, by mee being confuted serue better to helpe forward
my cause, then myne owne reasons confirmed, can be able to
doe good: I should wholy bestowe my tyme, and trauaile to
weaken and make slender, all that euer he bringeth with him.
But if I can with more ease proue mine own sayings, either with
Arguments when they should |
chiefly be vsed. |
witnesses, or with wordes, then bee able to confute his with
reason, I must labour to withdrawe mens mindes from mine
aduersaries foundation, and require them wholy to harken
vnto that which I haue to say, being of it selfe so iust and so
reasonable, that none can rightly speake against it, & shew them
that great pitie it were, for lacke of the onely hearing, that
a true matter should want true dealing. Ouer & besides al
these, there remaine two lessons, the which wisemen haue
alwaies obserued, and therefore ought of all men assuredly to
bee learned. The one is, that if any matter be laied against
Matters hard to auoyde |
should alwaies be past |
ouer, as though wee sawe |
them not at all. |
Good to be bold in most |
daunger, if otherwise |
we cannot escape. |
vs, which by reason can hardly be auoyded, or the which is
so open, that none almost can deny: it were wisedome in
confuting all the other reasons, to passe ouer this one, as
though we saw it not, and therefore speake neuer a word of
it. Or els if necessitie shall force a man to say somewhat, he
may make an outward bragge, as though there were no matter
in it, euer so speaking of it, as though he would stand to
the triall, making men to beleeue he would fight in the
cause, when better it were (if necessitie so required) to run
cleane awaie. And therein though a man do flie and giue
place, euermore the gladder the lesse rauing there is, or
stirring in this matter: yet he flieth wisely and for this ende,
that being sensed otherwise, and strongly appointed, hee may
take his aduersarie at the best aduauntage, or at the least
wearie him with much lingering, and make him with oft such
flying, to forsake his cheefe defence.
The other lesson is, that
whereas we purpose alwaies to
haue the victorie, we should so speake that we may labour,
rather not to hinder or hurt our cause, then to seeke meanes
Better not to hurte |
a good matter by ill |
speeche then to further |
it by good talke. |
Warenesse in speaking, |
and forbearing to speake[.] |
to further it. And yet I speake not this, but that both these
are right necessary, and euery one that will doe good, must
take paines in them both, but yet notwithstanding, it is a
fouler fault a great deale for an Orator, to be found hurting
his owne cause, then it should turne to his rebuke, if he had
not furthered his whole entent. Therfore not onely is it wisedome,
to speake so much as is needefull, but also it is good
reason to leaue vnspoken so much as is needelesse, the which
although the wisest can doe and neede no teaching, yet these
common wittes offende now and then in this behalf. Some
man being stirred, shall hurt more our cause then twentie
other. Taunting woordes before some
men, will not bee
borne at all. Sharpe rebuking of our aduersarie, or frumpes
giuen before some persons, can not be suffered at all. Yea,
sometymes a man must not speake all that he knoweth, for if
he do, he is like to find small fauour, although he haue iust
The persone before |
whom we speake must be |
well marked. |
Time must be |
obserued. |
cause to speake, and may with reason declare his mynd at
large. And albeit that witlesse folke, can sooner rebuke that
which is fondly spoken, then redily praise that which is wisely
kept close, yet the necessitie of the matter must rather be
marked, then the fond iudgement of the people esteemed.
What a sore saying were this: When a Lawier should take
in hande a matter concerning life and death: and an other
should aske how he hath sped, to heare tell that the Lawyer
hath not only cast away his client, but vndoen himself also, in
speaking thinges, inconsideratly, as no doubt it often happeneth
that wisemen and those also that be none euill men neither,
may vnwares speake things, which afterward they sore repent,
and would call backe againe with losse of a great somme.
Now what folly it is, not to remember the time, and the men.
Or who will speake that which he knoweth will not be liked,
if he purpose to finde fauour at their hands, before whome he
speaketh, what man of reason, will praise that before the
Iudges (before whom he knoweth the determination of his
cause resteth) which the Iudges them selues cannot abide to
heare spoken at all? Or doeth not so much hinder his owne
matter, that without all curtesie or preface made, will largely
speake euill of those men, whom the hearers of his cause
tenderly do fauour? Or be it that there be some notable fault
in thine aduersarie, with which the Iudges also are infected,
were it not folly for thee to charge thine aduersarie with the
same. Considering the Iudges thereby may think, thou speakest
against them also, and so thou maiest perhaps lose their fauour,
in seeking such defence made without all discretion. And in
framing reasons to confirme the purpose, if any be spoken
plainly false, or els contrarie to that which was spoken before,
doeth it not much hinder a good matter? Therefore in all
causes this good heed ought to be had, that alwaies we labour
to do some good in furthering of our cause, or if we cannot so
doe, at the least that we do no harme at al.
¶ There are
three kindes of causes or Orations,
which serue for euery matter.
Orations or causes |
of iii. kinds. |
NOthing can be handled by this
arte, but the same is
conteined within one of these three causes. Either the
matter consisteth in praise, or dispraise of a thing or els in
consulting, whether the cause be profitable, or vnprofitable:
or lastly, whether the matter be right or wrong. And yet this
one thing is to be learned, that in euery one of these three
causes, these three seuerall endes, may euery one of them be
conteined in any one of them. And therefore, he that shall
haue cause to praise any one bodie, shall haue iust cause to
speake of Iustice, to entreate of profite, and ioyntly to talke of
one thing with an other. But because these three causes, are
commonly and for the most part seuerally parted, I will speake
of them one after an other, as they are set forth by wise mens
iudgements, and particularly declare their properties all in
order.
The Oration demonstratiue
standeth either in praise, or
dispraise of some one man, or of some one thing, or of some
one deed doen.
¶ The kind
Demonstratiue, wherein
cheefly it standeth.
THere are diuers things which
are praised and dispraised,
as men, Countries, Cities, Places, Beastes, Hilles, Riuers,
Houses, Castles, deedes doen by worthy men, and pollicies
euented by great Warriors, but most commonly men are
praised for diuers respectes, before any of the other things are
taken in hande.
Noble persones, how |
they should be praised. |
Now in praysing a noble
personage, and in setting foorth
at large his worthinesse: Quintillian giueth warning, to vse
this threefold order.
|
{ Before this life. |
To obserue things. |
{ In his life. |
|
{ After his death. |
Before a mans life, are
considered these places.
{The Realme. |
{The Sheire. |
{The towne. |
{The Parentes. |
{The Auncesters. |
IN a mans life, praise must
bee parted threefolde. That is
to say, into the giftes of good things of the mynde, the
body, and of fortune. Now the giftes of the body & of fortune,
are not praise worthy of their owne nature: but euen as they
are vsed, either to or fro, so they are either praised, or dispraised.
Giftes of the mind deserue the whole trompe &
sound commendation aboue all other, wherein we may vse the
rehearsal of vertues, as they are in order, and beginning at
his infancie, tel all his doings till his last age.
¶ The places
whereof are these.
{ The birthe, and } |
|
{Whether the persone be a |
{ infancie.} |
|
{man, or a woman. |
|
|
{The brynging vp, the |
{ The childhood. } |
|
{nurturing, and the behauour |
|
|
{of his life. |
{ The Striplyng } |
|
{To what study he taketh |
{ age, or Springtide. } |
Whereunto |
{himself vnto, what company |
|
are referred |
{he useth, how he liueth. |
{ The mannes } |
these. |
{Prowesse doen, either |
{ state. } |
|
{abrode, or at home. |
|
|
{His pollicies and wittie |
{ The olde age. } |
|
{deuises, in behoufe of the |
|
|
{publique weale. |
{ The tyme of his} |
|
{Things that haue happened |
{ departure, or } |
|
{about his death. |
{ death. } |
|
|
NOw to open all these places
more largely, as well those
that are before a mannes life, as such as are in his life,
and after his death, that the Reader may further see the
profite will I doe the best I can.
The house or auncestrie |
whereof a noble |
personage commeth. |
The house whereof a noble
personage came, declares the
state and natures of his auncesters, his alliance, and his
kinsfolke. So that such worthie feates as they haue hertofore
done, & al such honors as they haue had for such their good
seruice, redounds wholy to the encrease and amplifying of his
honor, that is now liuing.
The Realme declares the nature
of the people. So that
some Countrey bringeth more honor with it, then an other
doth. To be a French man, descending there of a noble
house, is more honor then to be an Irish man: To bee an
English man borne, is much more honor
then to bee a Scot,
because that by these men, worthie Prowesses haue beene done,
and greater affaires by them attempted, then haue beene done
by any other.
The Shire or Towne helpeth
somewhat, towardes the
encrease of honor: As it is much better to bee borne in Paris,
then in Picardie: in London then in Lincolne. For that
both the ayre is better, the people more ciuill, and the wealth
much greater, and the men for the most part more wise.
To bee borne a manchilde,
declares a courage, grauitie,
and constancie. To be borne a woman, declares weakenesse of
spirit, neshnesse of body, and ficklenesse of minde.
Now, for the bringing vp of a
noble personage, his nurse
must bee considered, his play fellowes obserued, his teacher
and other his seruaunts called in remembraunces. How euery
one of these liued then, with whom they haue liued afterwards,
and how they liue now.
vi. Inclination of nature. |
By knowing what he taketh
himselfe vnto, and wherein hee
most delighteth, I may commend him for his learning, for his
skill in the French, or in the Italian, for his knowledge in
Cosmographie: for his skill in the Lawes, in the histories of
all Countries, and for his gift of enditing. Againe, I may
commend him for playing at weapons, for running vpon
a great Horse, for charging his staffe at the Tilt, for vawting,
for playing vpon Instruments, yea, and for painting, or
drawing of a Plat, as in old time noble Princes much delighted
therein.
Prowesse done, declare his
seruice to the King, and his
Countrey, either in withstanding the outward enemie, or els
in aswaging the rage of his owne Countreymen at home.
His wise counsaile, and good
aduise giuen, sets forth the
goodnesse of his wit.
ix. Time of departing |
this world. |
At the time of his departing,
his sufferaunce of all sicknesse,
may much commende his worthinesse. As his strong
heart, and cherefull pacience euen to the ende, cannot want
great praise. The loue of all men towards him, and the
lamenting generally for his lacke, helpe well most highly to set
forth his honour.
After a mans death, are
considered his Tombe, his Cote
armour set vp, and all such honours as are vsed in Funeralles.
If any one list to put these precepts
in practise, he may doe
as him liketh best. And surely I doe thinke, that nothing so
Duke of Suffolke, |
and Lorde Charles. |
much furthereth knowledge as dayly exercise, and enuring
our selues to doe that in deede, which we knowe in worde.
And because examples giue great light, after these precepts are
set forth, I will commend two noble Gentlemen, Henry Duke
of Suffolke, and his brother Lord Charles Duke with him.
¶ An example
of commending
a noble personage.
BEtter or more wisely can none
do, then they which neuer
bestowe praise, but vpon those that best deserue praise,
rather minding discretely what they ought to doe, then
vainely deuising what they best can doe, seeking rather to
praise men, such as are found worthie, then curiously finding
meanes to praise matters, such as neuer were in any. For
they which speake otherwise then trueth is, minde not the
commendation of the person, but the setting forth of their
owne learning. As Gorgias in Plato, praysing
vnrighteousnesse,
Gorgias. |
Heliogabalus |
Paphorinus. |
Heliogabalus Oratours commending whoredome, Phaphorinus
the Philosopher, extolling the Feuer quartain, thought not to
speake as the cause required, but would so much say as their
witte would giue, not weighing the state of the cause, but
minding the vaunt of their braine, looking how much could
bee sayd, not passing how little should bee sayd. But I both
knowing the might of Gods hande, for such as loue Fables,
and the shame that in earth redoundeth to euill reporters,
will not commend that in those, which neede no good praise,
but will commend them that no man iustly can dispraise, nor
yet any one is well able worthely to praise. Their towardnesse
was such, and their giftes so great, that I know none which
loue learning, but hath sorrowed the lacke of their being.
And I knowe that the onely naming of them, will stirre
honest hearts to speake well of them. I will speake of two
bretheren that lately departed, the one Henry Duke of Suffolke,
and the other Lord Charles his brother, whom GOD thinking
meeter for heauen, then to liue here vpon earth, tooke from
vs in his anger, for the bettering of our doinges, and amendment
of our euill liuing. These two Gentlemen were borne
in noble Englande, both by father and mother of an high
parentage. The father called Duke Charles, by Mariage
Henry Duke of |
Suffolke and |
Lorde Charles |
his brother. |
beeing brother to the worthie King of famous memorie Henry
the eight, was in such fauour, and did such seruice, that all
England at this howre doth finde his lacke, and France yet
doth feele that such a Duke there was, whom in his life time
the Godly loued: the euill feared, the wise men honoured for
his witte, and the simple vsed alwaies for their counsaile.
Their mother of birth noble, and witte great, of nature gentle,
and mercifull to the poore, and to the Godly, and especially
to the learned an earnest good Patronesse, and most helping
Ladie aboue all other. In their youth their father died, the
eldest of them beeing not past nine yeares of age. After whose
death, their mother knowing, that wealth without wit, is like
a sworde in a naked mans hande, and assuredly certaine, that
knowledge would confirme iudgement, prouided so for their
bringing vp in all vertue and learning, that two like were not
to bee had within this Realme againe. When they began
both to ware somewhat in yeares, being in their primetide and
spring of their age, the elder wayting on the Kings Maiestie
that now is, was generally wel esteemed, and such hope was
conceiued of his towardnesse, both for learning and al other
things, that fewe were like vnto him in al the Court. The
other keeping his booke among the Cambrige men profited
(as they well knowe) both in vertue and learning, to their great
admiration. For the Greeke, the Latine, and the Italian, I
know he could do more, then would be thought true by my
report. I leaue to speake of his skill in pleasant Instrumentes,
neither will I vtter his aptnesse in Musicke, and his toward
Nature, to all exercises of the body. But his elder brother
in this time (besides his other giftes of the minde, which
passed all other, and were almost incredible) following his
fathers nature, was so delited with ryding, and runnyng in
armour vpon horsebacke, and was so comely for that fact, and
could dooe so well in charging his Staffe, beeing but xiiii.
yeeres of age, that men of warre, euen at this howre, mone
much the want of such a worthy Gentleman. Yea, the French
men that first wondered at his learning, when he was there
among them, and made a notable oration in Latine: were
much more astonied when they sawe his comely riding, and
little thought to finde these two ornaments ioyned both in
one, his yeares especially being so tender, and his practise of
so small tyme. Afterward comming from
the Court, as one
that was desirous to be among the learned, he lay in Cambridge
together with his brother, where they both so profited,
and so gently vsed themselues, that all Cambridge did reuerence,
both him and his brother, as two Iewels sent from God.
The elders nature was such, that hee thought himself best,
when he was among the wisest, and yet contemned none, but
thankfully vsed al, gentle in behauiour without childishnesse,
stout of stomack without al pride, bold with all warenesse, and
friendly with good aduisement. The yonger being not so ripe
in yeres, was not so graue in looke, rather cherefull, then
sad: rather quicke, then auncient: but yet if his brother were
set aside, not one that went beyond him. A child, that by his
owne inclination, so much yeelded to his ruler, as few by
chastment haue done the like: pleasant of speech, prompt of
wit, stirring by nature, hault without hate, kind without craft,
liberall of heart, gentle in behauiour, forward in all things,
greedie of learning, & loth to take a foile in any open assembly.
They both in all attempts, sought to haue the victorie,
and in exercise of wit, not only the one with the other, did
oft stand in contention, but also they both would match with
the best, and thought them selues most happie, when they
might haue any iust occasion, to put their wittes in triall.
And now when this greene fruite began to waxe ripe, and all
men longed to haue a taste of such their great forwardnesse:
God preuenting mans expectation, tooke them both about
one howre, and in so shorte time, that first they were knowne
to be dead, or any abroad could tel they were sicke. I neede
not to rehearse, what both they spake, before their departure
(considering, I haue seuerally written, both in Latine and in
English, of the same matter) neither will I heape here so much
together, as I can, because I should rather renew great sorrow
to many, then doe most men any great good, who loued them
so well generally, that fewe for a great space after, spake of
these two Gentlemen, but they shewed teares, with the only
vtterance of their wordes, and some through ouer much
sorrowing, were faine to forbeare speaking. GOD graunt vs
all to liue, that the good men of this world, may bee alwaies
loth to forsake vs, and God may still be glad to haue vs, as no
doubt these two children so died, as all men should wish to
liue, and so they liued both, as al
should wish to dye. Seeing
therefore, these two were such, both for birth, nature, and all
other giftes of grace, that the like are hardly found behind
them: Let vs so speak of them, that our good reporte may
warne vs, to followe their godly natures, and that lastly, we
may enioye that inheritance, whereunto God hath prepared
them and vs (that feare him) from the beginning. Amen.
|
{The Enteraunce. |
The partes of an |
{The Narration. |
Oration made in |
{Sometimes the confutation. |
praise of a man. |
{The Conclusion. |
IF any one shall haue iust
cause, to dispraise an euill man, he
shall sone doe it, if he can praise a good man. For (as Aristotle
doth say) of contraries, there is one and the
same
doctrine, and therefore, hee that can doe the one, shall soone
bee able to doe the other.
¶ Of an
Oration demonstratiue,
for some deede done.
Oration demonstratiue |
of a deede. |
THe kind demonstratiue of some
thing done, is this, when
a man is commended, or dispraised, for any act committed
in his life.
¶ The places
to confirme this cause, why any one
is commended, are sixe in number.
|
{i. It is honest. |
|
{ii. It is possible. |
The places of confirmation. |
{iii. Easie to be done. |
|
{iiii. Hard to be done. |
|
{v. Possible to be done. |
|
{vi. Impossible to be done. |
Seuen circumstaunces, which
are to bee considered in diuers
matters.
|
{i. Who did the deede. |
|
{ii. What was done. |
The circumstaunces. |
{iii. Where it was done. |
|
{iiii. What helpe had he to doe it. |
|
{v. Wherefore he did it. |
|
{vi. How he did it. |
|
{vii. At what time he did it. |
¶ The
circumstaunces in Meter.
Who, what, and where, by what helpe, and by whose:
Why, how, and when, doe many things disclose.
THese places helpe
vonderfully to set out any matter, and
to amplifie it to the vttermost, not onely in praysing, or
dispraysing, but also in all other causes, where any aduisement
is to bee vsed. Yet this one thing is to be learned, that it
shal not be necessarie to vse them altogether, euen as they
stand in order: but rather as time and place shall best require,
they may be vsed in any part of the Oration, euen as it shall
please him that hath the vsing of them. Againe, if any man
be disposed to rebuke any offence, he may vse the places
contrary vnto them, that are aboue rehearsed, and applie
these circumstaunces, euen as they are, to the proofe of his
purpose.
An example of
commending King Dauid, for killing great Goliah,
gathered and made, by obseruation of circumstances.
Dauid commended |
for killing Goliah. |
GOD being the aucthour of
mankinde, powring into him
the breath of life, and framing him of clay, in such a
comely wise as wee all now see, hath from the beginning,
beene so carefull ouer his elect and chosen, that in al
daungers, he is euer readie to assist his people, keeping them
harmlesse, when they were often past all mans hope. And
among all other his fatherly goodnesse, it pleased him to shewe
his power to his chosen seruaunt Dauid, that al might learne
Who? Dauid |
against Goliah. |
to knowe his might, and recken with themselues, that though
man giue the stroke, yet God it is that giueth the ouerhand.
For wher as Dauid was of small stature, weake of bodie, poore
of birth, and base in the sight of the worldlings, God called
him first to match with an huge monster, a little bodie,
against a mightie Gyaunt, an abiect Israelite, against a most
valiaunt Philistine, with whom no Israelite durst encounter.
These Philistines, trusting in their owne strength so much that
they feared no perrill, but made an accompt, that all was theirs
before hand. Now, when both these armies were in sight,
the Philistines vpon an hill of the one side, and the Israelites
vpon an hill of the other side, a vale beeing betwixt them both,
there marched out of the Campe, a base borne Philistine,
called Goliah of Geth, a man of sixe Cubites high. This
Souldier, when through his bignesse and stature of his bodie,
and also with great bragges, and terrible threatninges, he had
wonderfully abashed the whole Armie of the Israelites, so that
no man durst aduenture vpon him. God
to the end he might
deliuer Israell, and shew that mans helpe, with all his armour,
litle auaile to get victorie, without his especiall grace: and
againe, to the end he might set vp Dauid, and make him
honourable among the Israelites, did then call out Dauid, the
sonne of Ephrateus, of Bethleem Iuda, whose name was Isaie,
What? Dauid |
killed Goliah. |
Where? About |
the vale of |
Terebinthus. |
who being but a childe in yeres, did kill out of hand, by Gods
might and power, Goliath the most terrible enemie of all
other, that bare hate against the children of Israell. When
this mightie fellowe was slaine, about the vale of Terebinthus,
betwixt both the Armies, the Israelites reioysed, that before
quaked, and wondered at him then, whom they would scant
knowe before, and no doubt this deede was not only wonderfull,
but also right godly. For in battaile to kill an enemie,
is thought right worthie, or to aduenture vpon a Rebell
(though the successe followe not) is generally commended, yea,
to put one to the worse, or to make him flie the ground, is
called manly, but what shal we say of Dauid, that not onely
had the better hande, not onely bet his enemie, but killed
streight his enemie, yea, and not an enemie of the common
stature of men, but a mightie Gyant, not a man, but a
Dauids enterprise, honest |
& godly. By what help, |
& by whose, alone and |
without the helpe of |
any man liuing. |
monster, yea, a deuill in heart, and a beast in bodie? Can any
be compted more honest then such as seeke to saue their
Countrey, by hassarding their carcasses, and shedding of their
bloud? Can loue shew it self greater, then by yeelding of life,
for the health of an army? It had been much, if halfe a dosen
had dispatched such a terrible Giaunt, but now, when Dauid
without helpe, being not yet a man but a boye in yeares,
slewe him hand to hand, what iust praise doth he deserue? If
we praise other, that haue slaine euil men, and compt them
haultie, that haue killed their matches, what shall wee say of
Dauid, that being wonderfully ouermatched, made his partie
Dauids enterprise, |
praise worthie. |
good, and got the Gole of a Monster. Let other praise Hercules,
that thinke best of him: let Cæsar,
Alexander, and Hanniball, bee bruted for Warriers: Dauid in
my
iudgement,
both did more manly, then all the other were able, and serued his
Countrey in greater daunger, then euer any one of them did.
And shall we not call such a noble Captaine, a good man of
warre. Deserueth not his manhoode and stout attempt,
wonderfull praise? If vertue could speake, would she not sone
Why? for the sauegard |
of his Countrie. |
confesse, that Dauid had her in full possession? And therefore,
if well doinges, by right may chalenge worthie Brute, Dauid
will be knowne, and neuer can want due praise, for such an
honest deede. And what man will not say, but that Dauid did
minde nothing els herein, but the sauegarde of his Countrey,
thinking it better for himselfe to dye, and his Countrey to
liue, then himselfe to liue, and his Countrey to dye. What
gaine got Dauid, by the death of Goliath, or what could he
hope, by the death of such a Monster, but onely that the loue
which he bare to the Israelites, forced him to hassarde his
Dauids enterprise, profitable |
to himself and his Countrey. |
owne life: thinking that if the Philistines should preuaile, the
Israelites were like to perrish, euery mothers sonne of them?
Therefore, hee hassarding this attempt, considered with himselfe,
the sauegarde of the Israelites, the maintenaunce of
Iustice, his duetie towards GOD, his obedience to his Prince,
and his loue to his Countrey. And no doubt, God made
Dauids enterprise, appereth |
easie to himselfe. |
this enterprise appere full easie, before Dauid could haue the
heart to match himselfe with such a one. For though his
heart might quake, being voyde of Gods helpe, yet assuredly he
wanted no stomacke, when God did set him on. Let Tyraunts
rage, let Hell stande open, let Sathan shewe his might, if God be
with vs, who can be against vs? Though this Goliah appeared
so strong, that ten Dauids were not able to stande in his
hande: yet tenne Goliahs were all euer weake for Dauid alone.
Man can not judge, neither can reason comprehend the
mightie power of God.
When Pharao with all his
Armie, thought fully to destroye
the children of Israell in the red Sea, did not God preserue
Moses, and destroyed Pharao? What is man, and all his power
that he can make, in the handes of GOD, vnto whom all
creatures both in heauen and in earth, are subiect at his
commaundement? Therefore, it was no masterie for Dauid,
beeing assisted with GOD, aswell to match with the whole
Dauids enterprise |
accompted of his |
friends hard and |
impossible. |
Armie, as to ouerthrow this one man. But what did the
Israelites, when they sawe Dauid take vppon him such a
bolde enterprise? Some sayd he was rash, other mocked him
to scorne, and his brethren called him foole. For thought
they, what a mad fellowe is he, being but a lad in yeares, to
match with such a monster in bodie? How can it be possible
otherwise, but that he shall be torne in peeces, euen at the
first comming? For if the Philistine
may once hit him, he is
gon though he had ten mens liues. Now what should he
meane, so vnegally to match himselfe, except he were wearie
of his life, or els were not well in his wittes? Yea, and to
giue his enemies all the aduauntage that could be, he came
vnarmed, and whereas the Philistine had very strong Armour,
both to defende himselfe, and a strong weapon to fight
withall: Dauid came with a Sling onely, as though he would
kill Crowes, whereat, not onely the Philistine laughed and
disdained his follie, but also both the Armies thought he was
but a dead man, before he gaue one stroke. And in deede,
by all reason and deuise of man, there was none other way,
but death with him out of hande. Dauid notwithstanding,
beeing kindeled in heart, with Gods might, was strong
enough for him, in his owne opinion, and forced nothing
though all other were much against him. And therefore,
made no more a doe, but being readie to reuenge in Gods
name, such great blasphemie, as the Philistine then did vtter:
marched towarde his enemie, and with casting a stone out of
a Sling, he ouerthrew the Philistine at the first. The which
when he had done, out with his sworde and chopt of his head,
carying it with his armour, to the Campe of the Israelites:
whereat the Philistines were greatly astonied, and the Israelites
much praised GOD, that had giuen such grace to such a one,
to compasse such a deede. And the rather this manly act, is
highly to bee praised, because he subdued this huge enemie,
when Saull first reigned King of Israel, and was sore assailed
with the great armie of the Philistines. Let vs therefore that
be now liuing, when this act or such like, come into our
mindes: remember what God is, of how infinite power he is,
and let vs praise God in them, by whom he hath wrought such
wonders, to the strengthning of our faith, and constaunt
keeping of our profession, made to him by euery one of vs in
our Baptisme.
¶ Examining
of the circumstaunces.
i. Who did the deede?
DAuid beeing an Israelite, did
this deede, beeing the
sonne of Isaie, of the tribe of Iuda, a boye in yeares.
This circumstaunce was vsed, not onely in the narration, but
also when I spake of the honesty and
godlinesse, which Dauid
vsed, when he slue Goliah.
ii. What was done?
He slue Goliah, the strongest
Giaunt among the Philistines.
This circumstance I vsed also, when I spake of the honestie,
in killing Goliah.
iii. Where was it done?
About the vale of Terebinthus.
iiii. What helpe had he
to it?
He had no help of any man but
went himself alone. And
whereas, Saull offered him Harnesse, he cast it away, and
trusting only in God, tooke him to his Sling, with fower or
fiue small stones in his hand, the which were thought nothing
in mans sight, able either to doe little good, or els nothing at
all. This circumstaunce I vsed, when I spake of the easinesse
and possibilitie, that was in Dauid to kill Goliah, by Gods
helpe.
v. Wherefore did he it?
He aduentured his life, for the
loue of his Countrey, for
the maintenance of iustice, for the aduauncement of Gods
true glorie, and for the quietnesse of all Israel, neither seeking
fame, nor yet looking for any gaine. I vsed this circumstance
when I shewed what profite he sought in aduenturing this
deede.
vi. How did he it?
Marie, he put a stone in his
Sling, and when he had cast
it at the Philistine Goliah fell downe straight. I vsed this
circumstaunce, when I spake of the impossibilitie of the thing.
vii. What time did he
it?
This deede was done, when Saull
reigned first King ouer
the Israelites, at what time the Philistines came against the
Israelites. Thus by the circumstaunces of things, a right
worthie cause may be plentifully enlarged.
¶ Of the
Oration demonstratiue, where things are
set forth, and matter commended.
THE kind demonstratiue of
things, is a meane wherby
we doe praise, or dispraise things, as Vertue, Vice,
Townes, Cities, Castelles, Woodes, Waters, Hilles and
Mountaines.
¶ Places to
confirme things are fower.
|
{i. Things honest. |
|
{ii. Profitable. |
Places of confirmation. |
{iii. Easie to be done. |
|
{iiii. Hard to be done. |
MAny learned will haue
recourse to the places of Logicke,
in steede of these fower places, when they take in hand
to commend any such matter. The which places if they
make them serue, rather to commende the matter, then onely
to teach men the trueth of it, it were wel done, and Oratour
like, for seing a man wholly bestoweth his witte to play the
Oratour, he should chiefly seeke to compasse that, which he
entendeth, and not doe that only which he neuer minded, for
by plaine teaching, the Logician shewes himselfe, by large
amplification, and beautifying of his cause, the Rhetorician is
alwaies knowne.
¶ The places
of Logicke are these.
{Definition. |
{Causes. |
{Parts. |
{Effects. |
{Things adioyning. |
{Contraries. |
I Doe not see otherwise, but
that these places of Logicke are
confounded with the other fower of confirmation, or rather
I thinke these of Logicke must first bee minded, ere the other
Logicke must be learned for |
confirmation of causes. |
can well be had. For what is he, that can cal a thing honest,
and by reason proue it, except he first know what the thing
is: the which he cannot better doe, then by defining the
nature of the thing. Againe, how shall I know, whether
mine attempt be easie or hard if I know not the efficient
cause, or be assured how it may be done. In affirming it to
bee possible, I shall not better knowe it then by searching the
ende, and learning by Logicke, what is the finall cause of
euery
thing.
¶ An example
in commendation of
Iustice, or true dealing.
SO many as looke to liue in
peaceable quietnesse, being
minded rather to follow reason, then to be led by wilfull
affection: desire Iustice in all things, without the which no
countrey is able long to continue.
Then may I be bolde to
commende that, which all men wish, and fewe can haue,
which all men loue, and none can want: not doubting, but
as I am occupied in a good thing, so al good men will heare
me with a good will. But would God I were so well able, to
perswade all men to Iustice, as all men knowe the necessarie
vse thereof: and then vndoubtedly, I would bee much bolder,
and force some by violence, which by faire wordes cannot bee
entreated. And yet what needes any perswasion for that thing,
which by nature is so needfull, & by experience so profitable,
that looke what we want, without Iustice we get not, looke
what we haue: without Iustice wee keepe not. God graunt
vs his grace so to worke in the hearts of al men, that they
may aswell practise well doing in their owne life, as they
would that other should followe Iustice in their life: I for my
part will bestowe some labour, to set forth the goodnesse of
vpright dealing, that all other men the rather may doe
thereafter. That if through my wordes, GOD shall worke
with any man, then may I thinke my selfe in happie case, and
reioyce much in the trauaile of my witte. And how can it
be otherwise, but that all men shalbe forced inwardly to
Iustice naturally in |
euery one of vs. |
allow that, which in outwarde act many doe not followe:
seeing God powred first this lawe of nature, into mans heart,
and graunted it as a meane, whereby wee might knowe his
will, and (as I might saye) talke with him, grounding still his
doinges vppon this poinct, that man should doe as he would
bee done vnto, the which is nothing els, but to liue vprightly,
without any will to hurt his neighbour. And therefore,
hauing this light of Gods will opened vnto vs, through his
mere goodnesse, we ought euermore, to referre all our actions
vnto this ende, both in giuing iudgement, and deuising Lawes
Iustice what it is, |
and how largely it |
extendeth. |
necessarie for mans life. And hereupon it is, that when men
desire the Lawe, for triall of a matter, they meane nothing
els but to haue Iustice, the which Iustice is a vertue that
yeeldeth to euery man his owne: to the euer liuing God loue
aboue all things: to the King obedience: to the inferiour
good counsaile: to the poore man, mercy: to the hatefull and
wicked, sufferaunce: to it self, trueth: and to all men,
perfite peace and charitie. Now, what can be more saied, in
praise of this vertue, or what thing can be like praised? Are
not all things in good case, when all
men haue their owne?
And what other thing doth Iustice, but seeketh meanes to
content all parties? Then how greatly are they to be praised,
that meane truely in al their doinges, not onely doe no harme
to any, but seeke meanes to helpe al. The Sunne is not so
wonderfull to the world (saith Aristotle) as the iust dealing
of
a gouernour, is marueilous to all men. No, the earth yeeldeth
no more gaine to all creatures, then doth the Iustice of a
Magistrate, to his whole Realme. For by a Lawe, we liue,
and take the fruites of the earth, but where no Lawe is, nor
Iustice vsed: there nothing can bee had, though all thinges be
at hand: for in hauing the thing, we shall lacke the vse, and
liuing in great plentie, wee shall stande in great neede. The
meane therefore, that maketh men to enioye their owne, is
Iustice, the which being once taken away, all other thinges
are lost with it, neither can any one saue that he hath, nor
Wrong dealing |
deserueth death. |
yet get that he wanteth. Therefore, if wrong doing should
be borne withall, and not rather punished by death, what man
could liue in rest? Who could bee sure either of his life, or of
his liuing one whole day together? Now, because euery man
desireth the preseruation of himselfe, euery man should in like
case desire the sauegard of his neighbour. For if I should
wholly minde myne owne ease, and followe gaine without
respect, to the hinderaunce of myne euen Christian: why
should not other vse the same libertie, and so euery man for
himselfe, and the Deuill for vs al, catch that catch may? The
which custome if all men followed, the earth would sone be
voyd, for want of men one would be so greedy to eate vp an
other. For in seeking to liue, wee would lose our liues, and
in gaping after goodes, wee should soone goe naked. Therefore,
to represse this rage, and with wholsome deuises to
traine men in an order, GOD hath lightened man with knowledge,
that in all thinges he may see what is right, and what
Iustice necessarie |
for all men. |
is wrong, and vpon good aduisement deale iustly with all
men. God hath created all thinges for mans vse, and ordeined
man, for mans sake, that one man might helpe an other.
For though some one haue giftes more plentifully then the
common sorte, yet no man can liue alone, without helpe of
other. Therefore wee should striue one to helpe an other by
iust dealing, some this way, and some that way, as euery one
From the lesse |
to the greater. |
shal haue neede, and as we shalbe alwaies best able, wherein
the lawe of nature is fulfilled, and Gods commaundement
followed. Wee loue them here in earth, that giue vs faire
wordes, and wee can bee content, to speake well of them,
that speake well of vs? and shall we not loue them, and take
them also for honest men, which are contented from time to
time, to yeeld euery man his owne, and rather would dye
then consent to euill doing: If one be gentle in outward
behauiour, we like him well, and shall we not esteeme him
that is vpright in his outward liuing? And like as wee desire,
that other should bee to vs, ought not wee to bee likewise,
affected towardes them? Euen among brute Beastes, nature
hath appointed a lawe, and shall wee men liue without a lawe?
The Storke being not able to feede her self for age, is fed of her
young ones, wherein is declared a naturall loue, and shall wee
so liue that one shall not loue an other? Man should be vnto
man as a God, & shal man be vnto man as a deuil? Hath
Vnnaturalnesse in |
man towards God. |
God created vs, and made vs to his owne likenesse, enduing vs
with all the riches of the earth, that wee might bee obedient
to his will, and shall wee neither loue his, nor like his? How
can we say that we loue God, if there be no charitie in vs?
Doe I loue him, whose minde I will not followe, although it
be right honest? If you loue me (sayth Christ) followe my
Commaundements. Christes will is such, that wee should
Ihon xiiii. |
Math. xix. |
Mark. x. |
Prouer. xvi. |
Prouer. iiii. |
Psal. xcvi. |
Profite of Iustice. |
loue God aboue all things, and our neighbour as our self.
Then if we doe not iustice (wherein loue doth consist) we
do neither loue man, nor yet loue God. The Wiseman saith:
The beginning of a good life, is to doe Iustice. Yea, the
blessing of the Lord, is vpon the head of the iust. Heauen is
theirs (saith Dauid) that doe iustly from time to time. What
els then shall we doe, that haue any hope of the generall
resurrection, but doe the will of God, and liue iustly all the
daies of our life? Let euery man, but consider with himselfe,
what ease he shall finde thereby, and I doubt not, but euery
one deepely waying the same, will in heart confesse, that
Iustice maketh plentie, & that no man could long hold
his own if lawes were not made, to restraine mans will.
We trauaile now, Winter and Sommer, we watch and take
thought, for maintenaunce of wife and children, assuredly
purposing (that though God shall take vs immediatly) to
Sauegard had |
by Iustice. |
Gradation. |
leaue honestly for our familie. Now, to what ende were all
our gathering together, if iust dealing were set a side, if Lawes
bare no rule, if that the wicked list, that they may, and what
they may, that they can, and what they can, that they dare,
& what they dare, the same they doe, & whatsoeuer they doe,
no man of power is agreeued therwith? What maketh wicked
men (which els would not) acknowledge the King as their
soueraigne Lord, but the power of a law, & the practise of
Iustice for euill doers? Could a Prince maintaine his state
The necessitie |
of Iustice. |
royall, if law and right had not prouided, that euery man
should haue his owne? Would seruaunts obeye their maisters,
the sonne his father, the Tenaunt his Landlord, the Citezein
his Maior or Sherief if orders were not set, & iust dealing
appointed for all states of men? Therfore, the true meaning
folke in al ages giue themselues some to this occupation, and
some to that, seking therin nothing els but to maintain a poore
life, and to kepe themselues true men, both to GOD and the
world. What maketh men to performe their bargaines, to
stand to their promises, and yeeld their debtes, but an order
of a law grounded vpon Iustice? Where right beareth rule,
Where iustice is |
executed, vice is |
exiled. |
there craft is compted vice. The liar is much hated, where
trueth is well esteemed. The wicked theeues are hanged,
where good men are regarded. None can hold vp their
heads, or dare shewe their faces, in a well ruled common
weale, that are not thought honest, or at the least haue some
honest way to liue. The Egiptians therefore, hauing a worthy
and a wel gouerned commonweale, prouided that none should
liue idly, but that euery one monthly should giue an accompt,
Egiptians, what order |
they vsed to banish |
idlenesse. |
how he spent his time, and had his name regestred in a booke
for the same purpose. But Lord, if this law were vsed in
England, how many would come behind hand with their
reckenings at the audite day. I feare me their doings would
be such, that it would be long ere they got their quietus est.
Therfore the worse is our state, the lesse that this euill is
looked vnto. And surely, if in other thinges wee should bee
as negligent, this Realme could not long stand. But thankes
be to God, wee hang them a pace, that offend a lawe, and
therefore, wee put it to their choyce, whether they wilbe
idle, and so fall to stealing or no? they knowe their reward,
goe to it when they wil. But if therewithal some good order
were taken, for education of youth,
and setting loyterers on
worke (as thanks be to God, the Citie is most godly bent
that way) all would sone be well, without all doubt. The
wise and discrete persons in al ages, sought all meanes possible,
to haue an order in all thinges, and loued by Iustice to direct
all their doinges, whereby appeareth both an apt will in such
men, and a naturall stirring by Gods power, to make all men
Iustice, easie to |
be obserued if will |
be not wanting. |
good. Therefore if we do not well, we must blame our
selues, that lack a will, & do not call to God for grace. For
though it appere hard to do wel, because no man can get
perfection, without continuance: yet assuredly to an humble
mind that calleth to God, & to a willing heart that faine
would do his best, nothing can be hard. God hath set al
things to sale for labor, & keepeth open shop come who wil.
Therefore in all ages, whereas we see the fewest good we
must well thinke, the most did lacke good will to aske, or
seeke for the same. Lord what loue had that worthie Prince Seleucus
to maintaine Iustice, and to haue good lawes
kept, of
whom such a wonderfull thing is written. For whereas he
established most wholesome lawes, for sauegard of the Locrensians,
and his owne sonne thereupon taken in adultery, should
lose both his eyes, according to the lawe then made, and
yet notwithstanding, the whole Citie thought, to remit the
necessitie of his punishment, for the honour of his father,
Seleucus would none of that in any wise. Yet at last,
through
importunitie being ouercome, he caused first one of his own
eyes to be pluckt out, and next after, one of his sonnes eyes,
leauing onely the vse of sight, to himselfe and his sonne.
Thus through equitie of the law, he vsed the due meane of
chastisement, shewing himselfe by a wonderfull temperature,
both a mercifull father, and a iust law maker. Now happie
are they that thus obserue a Lawe, thinking losse of bodie,
lesse hurt to the man, then sparing of punishment, meete for
the soule. For GOD will not faile them, that haue such
a desire to followe his will, but for his promise sake, he will
rewarde them for euer. And now, seing that Iustice
naturally is giuen to al men, without the which he could not
liue, being warned also by GOD, alwaies to doe vprightly,
perceiuing againe the commodities, that redounde vnto vs,
by liuing vnder a Lawe, and the sauegarde, wherein we stand,
hauing Iustice to assist vs: I trust
that not onely all men, will
commend Iustice in worde, but also will liue iustly in deede,
the which that we may doe: God graunt vs of his grace.
Amen.
¶ An Oration
deliberatiue.
AN Oration deliberatiue, is a
meane, whereby we doe perswade,
or disswade, entreate, or rebuke, exhorte, or dehort,
commend, or comforte any man. In this kind of Oration,
wee doe not purpose wholy to praise any bodie, nor yet to
determine any matter in controuersie, but the whole compasse
of this cause is, either to aduise our neighbour to that thing,
which wee thinke most needefull for him, or els to call him
backe from that follie, which hindereth much his estimation.
As for example, if I would counsaile my friend to trauaile
beyond the Seas, for knowledge of the tongues, and experience
in forraine Countries: I might resort to this kinde of Oration,
and finde matter to confirme my cause plentifully. And the
reasons, which are commonly vsed to enlarge such matters,
are these that followe.
{The thing is honest. |
|
{Saufe. |
{Profitable. |
|
{Easie. |
{Pleasaunt. |
|
{Hard. |
|
{Lawfull and meete. |
|
|
{Praise worthie. |
|
|
{Necessarie. |
|
Honestie comprehendeth |
all vertues. |
NOW in speaking of honestie,
I may by deuision of the
vertues make a large walke. Againe, looke what lawes,
what customes, what worthie deedes, or sayinges haue been
vsed heretofore, all these might serue well for the confirmation
of this matter, lastly where honestie is called in to establish
a cause: there is nature and GOD himselfe present, from
Profite how largely it |
extendeth. Profite beareth |
the name of goodnesse, |
which is three folded. |
whom commeth all goodnesse. In the seconde place, where
I spake of profite, this is to be learned, that vnder the same
is comprehended the getting of gaine, and the eschuing of
harme. Againe, concerning profite (which also beareth the
name of goodnesse) it partly perteineth to the bodie, as
beautie, strength, and health, partly to the minde, as the
encrease of witte, the getting of experience, and heaping
together of much learning: and partly to fortune (as Philosophers
take it) whereby both wealth, honour, and friends are
gotten. Thus he that deuideth profite
cannot want matter.
Thirdly, in declaring it is pleasant, I might heape together
Pleasures, largely |
set out. |
the varietie of pleasures, which come by trauaile, first the
sweetnesse of the tongue, the wholesomnes of the ayre in other
Countries, the goodly wittes of the Gentlemen, the straunge
and auncient buildings, the wonderfull Monuments, the great
learned Clarkes in al faculties, with diuers otherlike, &
almost infinite pleasures.
The easinesse of trauaile, may
thus be perswaded, if we
shewe that free passage is by wholesome lawes appointed, for
al straungers and way fairers. And seeing this life is none
other thing but a trauell, and we as Pilgrimes, wander from
place to place, much fondnesse it were to thinke that hard,
which nature hath made easie, yea, and pleasaunt also. None
are more healthfull, none more lustie, none more merrie, none
more strong of bodie, then such as haue trauailed Countries.
Trauaile vnto whom |
it is hard. |
Mary vnto them, that had rather sleepe al day, then wake one
houre (chosing for any labor, slothfull idlenesse) thinking this
life to be none other, but a continuall resting place, vnto such
pardie, it shall seeme painefull to abide any labour. To learne Logicke,
to learne the Law, to some it seemeth so hard,
that
nothing can enter into their heades: and the reason is, that
they want a will, and an earnest minde, to doe their endeuour.
Good will makes great |
burdeines light. |
For vnto a willing heart, nothing can be hard, lay lode on
such a mans back and his good heart, may soner make his
backe to ake, then his good will can graunt to yeeld, and
refuse the weight. And now where the sweete hath his sower
ioyned with him, it shalbe wisedome to speake somewhat of it,
to mitigate the sowernesse thereof, as much as may be possible.
That is lawfull and praise
worthie, which Lawes doe graunt,
good men doe allowe, experience commendeth, and men in
all ages haue most vsed.
Necessary two |
waies taken. |
A thing is necessarie two maner
of waies. First, when
either wee must doe some one thing, or els doe worse. As
if one should threaten a woman, to kill her if she would
not lye with him, wherein appeareth a forcible necessitie.
As touching trauaile we might say, either a man must bee
ignoraunt of many good thinges, and want great experience,
or els he must trauaile. Now to be ignoraunt, is a great
shame, therefore to trauaile is most needfull, if we will auoyde
shame. The other kind of necessitie
is, when wee perswade
men to beare those thinges paciently, when wee perswade
men to beare those crosses paciently, which God doth send vs,
considering, will we, or nill we, needes must we abide them.
¶ To aduise
one, to studie the lawes of England.
AGaine, when we see our frend
enclined to any kind of
learning, we must counsaile him to take that way still, and
by reason perswade him, that it were the meetest way for him
to doe his Countrie most good. As if he giue his minde to
the lawes of the Realme, and finde an aptnesse therunto, we
may aduise him, to continue in his good entent, and by reason
perswade him, that it were most meete for him so to do.
Vertues especiall & |
chief, fower in number. |
And first we might shewe him that the studie is honest and
godly, considering it onely foloweth Iustice, and is grounded
wholy vpon naturall reason. Wherein we might take a large
scope, if we should fully speake of all thinges, that are
comprehended vnder honestie. For he that will knowe what
honestie is, must haue an vnderstanding, of all the vertues
together. And because the knowledge of them is most
necessarie, I will briefly set them forth. There are fower
especiall and chief vertues, vnder whom all other are comprehended.
{Prudence, or wisedome. |
{Iustice. |
{Manhood. |
{Temperaunce. |
PRudence, or wisedome (for I will here take them both
for one) is a vertue that is occupied euermore in searching
out the trueth. Now, we all loue knowledge, and haue a
desire to passe other therin, and think it shame to be ignoraunt:
and by studying the lawe, the trueth is gotten out, by knowing
the trueth, wisedome is attained. Wherefore, in perswading
one to studie the lawe, you may shewe him, that he shall get
wisedome thereby. Vnder this vertue are comprehended.
{Memorie. |
{Vnderstanding. |
{Foresight. |
THE memorie, calleth to accompt
those things, that were
done heretofore, and by a former remembraunce getteth
an after wit, and learneth to auoyde deceipt.
Vnderstanding, seeth thinges
presently done, and perceiueth
what is in them, weighing and debating them, vntill his minde
be fully contented.
Foresight, is a gathering by
coniectures, what shall happen,
and an euident perceiuing of thinges to come, before they doe
come.
Iustice.
Iustice is a vertue, gathered
by long space, giuing euery one
his owne, minding in all thinges, the common profite of our
Countrey, whereunto man is most bound and oweth his full
obedience.
Now, Nature first taught
man, to take this way, and would
euery one so to doe vnto an other, as he would be doen vnto
himselfe. For whereas Raine watereth al in like, the Sunne
shineth indifferently ouer all, the fruite of the earth encreaseth
equally. God warneth vs to bestowe our good will after the
same sorte, doing as duetie bindeth vs, and as necessitie shall
best require. Yea, God graunteth his giftes diuersly among
men, because hee would man should knowe and feele, that
man is borne for man, and that one hath neede of an other.
And therefore though nature hath not stirred some, yet
through the experience that man hath, concerning his commoditie:
many haue turned the lawe of nature into an
ordinarie custome, and followed the same as though they
were bound to it by a law. Afterward, the wisedome of
Princes, and the feare of Gods threate, which was vttered
by his worde, forced men by a lawe, both to allowe things
confirmed by nature, and to beare with old custome, or els
they should not onely suffer in body temporall punishment,
but also lose their soules for euer. Nature is a right that
phantasie hath not framed, but God hath graffed and giuen
man power thereunto, whereof these are deriued.
{Religion, and acknowledging of God. |
{Naturall loue to our children, and other. |
{Thankfulnesse to all men. |
{Stoutnesse, both to withstand and reuenge. |
{Reuerence to the superiour. |
{Assured and constaunt trueth in things. |
REligion, is an humble
worshipping of GOD, acknowledging
him to be the creatour of Creatures, and the
onely giuer of all good things.
Naturall loue, is an inward
good will, that we beare to
our parents, wife, children, or any other that be nigh of
kinne vnto vs, stirred thereunto not onely by our flesh,
thinking that like as we would loue our selues, so wee should
loue them, but also by a likenesse of minde: and therefore
generally we loue all, because all be like vnto vs, but yet we
loue them most, that both in bodie and mynd be most like
vnto vs. And hereby it commeth, that often we are liberall
and bestowe our goodes vpon the needie, remembring that
they are all one flesh with vs, and should not want when we
haue it, without our great rebuke and token of our most
vnkind dealing.
Thankfulnesse is a requiting of
loue, for loue, and will, for
will, shewing to our freendes, the like goodnesse that we finde
in them: yea, striuing to passe them in kindnesse, losing
neither time nor tide to doe them good.
Stoutnesse to withstand and
reuenge euil, is then vsed when
either we are like to haue harme, & doe withstand it, or els
when we haue suffered euill for the trueth sake, and thereupon
doe reuenge it, or rather punish the euill, which is in
the man.
Reuerence, is an humblenesse in
outward behauour, when
we doe our duetie to them, that are our betters, or vnto such
as are called to serue the King in some greate vocation.
Assured and |
constant trueth. |
Assured and constant trueth is,
when we do beleeue that
those things, which are, or haue bene, or hereafter are about
to be, can not otherwise be, by any meanes possible.
That is right by custome, which
long time hath confirmed,
being partly grounded vpon nature, & partly vpon reason, as
where wee are taught by nature, to knowe the euer liuing
God, and to worship him in spirite, we turning natures light,
into blind custome, without Gods will, haue vsed at length
Custome with our |
natures ground |
vngodly. |
to beleeue, that he was really with vs here in earth, and
worshipped him not in spirite, but in Copes, in Candlesticks,
in Belles, in Tapers, and in Censers, in Crosses, in Banners,
in shauen Crownes, and long Gownes, and many good
morowes els, deuised only by the phantasie of man, without
the expresse will of God. The which childish toyes, time
hath so long confirmed, that the trueth is scant able to trie
them out, our hearts be so hard, and our wits be so far to
seeke. Again, where we see by
nature, that euery one should
deale truely, custome encreaseth natures wil, & maketh by
auncient demeane things to be iustly obserued, which nature
hath appointed.
|
{Bargaining. |
As |
{Commons, or equalitie. |
|
{Iudgement giuen. |
BArgaining is, when two haue
agreed for the sale of some
one thing, the one will make his fellowe to stand to the
bargaine though it be to his neighbours vndoing, resting vpon
this point, that a bargaine is a bargaine, and must stande
without all exception, although nature requireth to haue
things doen by conscience, and would that bargaining should
be builded vpon iustice, whereby an vpright dealing, and
a charitable loue, is vttered amongst all men.
Commons or equalitie, is when
the people by long time
haue a ground, or any such thing among them, the which
some of them will keep still for custome sake, and not suffer
it to be fenced, and so turned to pasture, though they might
gaine ten times the value: but such stubburnesse in keeping
of commons for custome sake, is not standing with Iustice,
because it is holden against al right.
Iudgement giuen, is when a
matter is confirmed by a
Parliament, or a Lawe, determined by a Iudge, vnto the
which many hedstrong men will stand to dye for it, without
sufferaunce of any alteration, not remembring the circumstaunce
of things, and that time altereth good actes.
That is right by a law, when
the trueth is vttered in
writing, and commaunded to be kept, euen as it is set forth
vnto them.
¶ Fortitude
or manhood.
FOrtitude, is a considerate
hassarding vpon daunger, and
a willing heart to take paines, in behalfe of the right.
Now, when can stoutnesse be better vsed, then in a iust maintenaunce
of the Lawe, and constaunt trying of the trueth:
Of this vertue, there are fower branches.
{Honourablenesse. |
{Stoutnesse. |
{Sufferance. |
{Continuance. |
HOnorablenesse is a noble
ordering of weightie matters,
with a lustie heart, and a liberall vsing of his wealth, to
encrease of honour.
Stoutnesse, is an assured trust
in himselfe, when he mindeth
the compasse of most weightie matters, and a couragious
defending of his cause.
Sufferaunce, is a willing and a
long bearing of trouble and
taking of paines: for the maintenaunce of vertue, and the
wealth of his Countrey.
Continuance, is a stedfast and
constaunt abiding, in a
purposed and well aduised matter, not yeelding to any man
in quarell of the right.
¶ Temperaunce.
TEmperance, is a measuring of
affections according to
the will of reason, and a subduing of lust vnto the Square
of honestie. Yea, and what one thing doth soone mitigate
the immoderate passions of our nature, then the perfect
knowledge of right & wrong, & the iust execution appointed
by a law, for asswaging the wilfull? Of this vertue there are
three partes.
{Sobrietie. |
{Gentlenesse. |
{Modestie. |
Sobrietie, is a brideling by
discretion, the wilfulnesse of
desire.
Gentlenesse, is a caulming of
heate, when we begin to rage,
and a lowly behauiour in al our bodie.
Modestie, is an honest
shamefastnesse, whereby we keepe a
constant looke, & appere sober in all our outward doings. Now,
euen as we should desire the vse of al these vertues, so should
we eschue not only the contraries hereunto, but also auoid al such
euils, as by any meanes do withdrawe vs from well doing.
¶ It is
profitable.
Hope of reward |
maketh men take paines. |
AFter we haue perswaded our
freend, that the lawe is
honest, drawing our arguments from the heape of vertues,
wee must goe further with hym, and bryng him in good beleeue
that it is very gainfull. For many one seeke not the knowledge
of learning for ye goodnes sake, but rather take paines
for the gaine, which they see doeth arise by it. Take away
the hope of lucre, and you shall see fewe take any paines: no
not in the Vineyard of the Lorde. For
although none should
followe any trade of life for the gaine sake, but euen as he
seeth it is most necessarie, for the aduauncement of Gods
glorie, and not passe in what estimation things are had in
this worlde: yet because we are all so weake of witte in our
tender yeres, that we can not weigh with our selues what is
best, and our bodie so nesh, that it loketh euer to be
cherished, we take that which is moste gainefull for vs, and
forsake that altogether, which wee ought most to followe.
So, that for lacke of honest meanes, and for want of good
order: the best way is not vsed, neither is Gods honour in
our first yeeres remembred. I had rather (sayde one) make
my child a Cobler, then a Preacher, a Tankerd bearer, then
a Scholer. For what shal my sonne seeke for learning, when
hee shall neuer get thereby any liuing? Set my sonne to that,
whereby he may get somewhat? Doe ye not see, how euery
one catcheth and pulleth from the Church what thei can?
I feare me one day, they wil pluck doune Church and all.
Call you this the Gospell, when men seeke onely to prouide
for their bellies, and care not a groate though their soules go
to Hell? A patrone of a Benefice, will haue a poore yngrame
soule, to beare the name of a Parson, for twentie marke or
ten pound: and the patrone him self, will take vp for his
snapshare, as good as an hundred marke. Thus God is
robbed, learning decaied, England dishonoured, and honestie
not regarded. The old Romaines not yet knowing Christ, and
yet being led by a reuerent feare towards God made this lawe. Sacrum
sacroue commendatum qui clepserit, rapseritue,
paricida est.
The Romaines lawes |
for Church dignities. |
He that shall closely steale, or forciblie take awaie that thing
which is holy, or giuen to the holy place, is a murderer of his
countrey. But what haue I said? I haue a greater matter in
hande, then whereof I was aware, my penne hath runne ouer
farre, when my leasure serueth not, nor yet my witte is able
to talke this case in such wise, as it should bee, and as the
largenesse thereof requireth. Therefore, to my Lawyer againe,
whom I doubt not to perswade, but that he shal haue the
Deuill and al, if he learne a pace, and doe as some haue doen
before him. Therefore, I will shewe how largely this profite
extendeth, that I may haue him the soner take this matter in
hande. The law therefore, not onely bringeth much gaine
with it, but also aduaunceth men,
both to worship, renowne,
and honour. All men shall seeke his fauour for his learning
sake, the best shall like his company for his calling: and his
wealth with his skill shall be such, that none shal be able to
work him any wrong. Some consider profite, by these circumstances
following.
{To whom. |
{When. |
{Where. |
{Wherefore. |
Circumstances in |
obseruing profite. |
NEther can I vse a better
order, then these circumstaunces
minister vnto mee. To whom therefore is the
Law profitable? Marie, to them that be best learned, that
haue readie wittes, and will take paines. When is the law
profitable? Assuredly, both now and euermore, but especially
in this age, where all men goe together by the eares, for this
matter, and that matter. Such alteration hath beene heretofore,
that hereafter needes must ensue much alteration.
And where is al this a doe? Euen in little England, or in
Westminster hall, where neuer yet wanted businesse, nor yet
euer shal. Wherefore is the Law profitable? vndoubtedly,
because no man could hold his owne, if there were not an order
to staie vs, and a Lawe to restraine vs. And I praie you, who
getteth the money? The Lawiers no doubt. And were not
Folly in many that |
go to the Lawe. |
Land sometimes cheaper bought, then got by the triall of
a Law? Do not men commonly for trifles fall out? Some for
lopping of a Tree, spendes all that euer they haue, an other
for a Gose that graseth vpon his ground, tries the lawe so
hard, that he proues himself a Gander. Now, when men be
so mad, is it not easie to get money among them? Undoubtedly,
Lawyers, neuer |
dye beggers. |
the Lawier neuer dieth a begger. And no maruaile.
For an C. begges for him, and makes awaie all that they haue,
to get that of him, the which, the oftener he bestoweth, the
more still he getteth. So that he gaineth alwaies, aswel by
encrease of learning, as by storing his purse with money,
whereas the other get a warme Sunne oftentimes, and a flappe
with a Foxe taile, for all that euer they haue spent. And why
would they? Tush if it were to doe againe, they would doe
it: therefore, the Lawyer can neuer want liuing till the earth
want men and all be voyde.
¶ The Lawe
easie to many,
and hard to some.
I Doubt not, but my Lawyer is
perswaded that the Lawe is
profitable, now must I beare him in hand that it is an easie
matter to become a Lawier. The which, if I shall bee able
to proue. I doubt not, but he will proue a good Lawyer,
and that right shortly: the Lawe is grounded vpon reason.
And what hardnesse is it for a man by a reason, to finde out
reason. That can not be straunge vnto him, the ground
whereof is graffed in his breast. What, though the Lawe be
in a straunge tongue, the wordes may bee gotte without any
paine, when the matter it self is compast with ease. Tush,
a little Lawe will make a greate shewe, and therefore, though
it bee much to become excellent, yet it is easie to get a taste.
And surely for getting of money, a little will doe asmuch
good oftentymes, as a great deale. There is not a word in
the Law, but it is a grote in the Lawiers purse. I haue
knowne diuers, that by familiar talking and mouting together,
haue come to right good learning, without any great booke
skill, or much beating of their braine, by any close studie or
secret musing in their Chamber. But where some saie the
Lawe is very hard, and discourage yong men from the studie
thereof, it is to bee vnderstande of such as will take no paines
at al, nor yet mind the knowledge thereof. For what is
not hard to man, when he wanteth will to doe his best. As
good sleepe, and say it is hard: as wake and take no paines.
|
{Godlie. |
The Lawe. |
{Iuste. |
|
{Necessarie. |
|
{Pleasaunt. |
WHat needeth mee, to prooue
the Lawe to be Godly,
iust, or necessarie, seeing it is grounded vpon Gods
will, and all Lawes are made for the maintenaunce of Iustice.
If we wil not beleeue that it is necessarie, let vs haue Rebels
againe to disturbe the Realme. Our nature is so fonde, that
we knowe not the necessitie of a thing, till wee finde some
lacke of the same. Bowes are not esteemed, as they haue
beene among vs Englishmen, but if we were once well beaten
by our enemies, we should soone knowe the want, and with
feeling the smart, lament much our folly. Take away the
Law, and take away our liues, for nothing maintaineth our
wealth, our health, and the sauegard of our bodies, but the
Law of a Realme, whereby the wicked are condemned, and
the Godly are defended.
¶ An Epistle
to perswade a yong Gentleman to mariage,
deuised by Erasmus, in the behalfe of his freend.
ALbeit, you are wise enough of
your selfe, through that
singulare wisedome of yours (most louing Cosine) and
litle needes the aduise of other, yet either for that olde
freendshippe, which hath bene betwixt vs, and continued
with our age, euen from our Cradles, or for such your great
good turnes, shewed at all times towardes me, or els for that
fast kinred and aliaunce, which is betwixt vs: I thought my
self thus much to owe vnto you, if I would be such a one in
deed, as you euer haue taken mee, that is to say, a man both
freendly and thankfull, to tell you freely (whatsoeuer I iudged
to appertaine either to the sauegard or worship of you, or any
of yours) and willingly to warne you of the same. Wee are
better seen oftentimes in other mens matters, then we are in
our owne. I haue felt often your aduise in mine owne
affaires, and I haue found it to be fortunate vnto me, as it
was frendly. Now, if you will likewise in your owne
matters, follow my counsaile. I trust it shall so come to
passe, that neither I shall repent me, for that I haue giuen you
counsaile, not yet you shall forethinke your selfe, that you haue
obeyed and followed mine aduise.
There was at supper with me
the twelue day of Aprill, when
I laie in the Countrie, Antonius Baldus, a man (as you
knowe) that most earnestly tendereth your welfare, and one
that hath been alwaies of great acquaintaunce, and familiaritie
with your sonne in Lawe: a heauie feast wee had, and full of
much mourning. He tolde me greatly to both our heauinesse,
that your mother that most Godly woman, was departed this
life, and your sister being ouercome with sorowe and heauinesse,
had made her self a Nunne, so that in you only
remaineth the hope of issue, and maintenance of your stocke.
Whereupon your freends with one consent, haue offered you
in Mariage, a Gentlewoman of a good house, and much
wealth, faire of bodie, very well brought vp, and such a one
as loueth you with all her heart. But you (either for your
late sorowes, which you haue in fresh
remembraunce, or els
for religion sake) haue so purposed to liue a single life, that
neither can you for loue of your stock, neither for desire of
Issue, nor yet for any entreatie of your freendes can make,
either by praying, or by weeping: be brought to chaunge
your minde. And yet notwithstanding all this (if you will
followe my counsayle) you shall be of an other minde, and
leauing to liue single, whiche both is barraine, and smally
agreeing with the state of mans Nature, you shal giue your
selfe wholy to most holy Wedlocke. And for this parte,
I will neither wish, that the loue of your freends (which els
ought to ouercome your nature) nor yet mine authoritie that
I haue ouer you, should doe me any good at all, to compasse
this my request, if I shall not proue vnto you by most plaine
reasons, that it will be both much more honest, more profitable,
and also most pleasant for you to marrie, then to liue
otherwise. Yea, what will you say if I proue it also, to be
necessary for you at this tyme to marrie. And first of all, if
honestie may moue you in this matter (the which among all
good men, ought to bee of much weight) what is more honest
then Matrimonie, the which Christ himselfe did make honest,
when not onely hee, vouchsaued to bee at the Mariage with
his mother, but also did consecrate the Mariage feast, with
the first miracle, that euer hee did vpon earth? What is more
holy then Matrimonie, which the Creatour of all things did
institute, did fasten and make holy, and nature it selfe did
establish? What is more prayse worthie, then that thing, the
which, whosoeuer shall dispraise, is condemned straight for an
Heretique? Matrimonie, is euen as honourable, as the name
of an Heretique is thought shamefull. What is more right
or meete, then to giue that vnto the posteritie, the which we
haue receiued of our auncesters? What is more inconsiderate,
then vnder the desire of holinesse, to eschue that as vnholy,
Right and meete |
to marrie. |
which God himself, the fountaine and father of all holinesse,
would haue to be compted is most holy? What is more
vnmanly then that man should goe against the lawes of
mankind? What is more vnthankfull, then to denie that vnto
younglings, the which (if thou haddest not receiued of thine
elders) thou couldest not haue bene the man liuing, able to
haue denied it vnto them. That if you would knowe, who
Mariage first |
made by God. |
was the first founder of Mariage, you shall vnderstande, that
it came not vp by Licurgus, nor yet by Moses, nor yet by
Solon: but it was first ordeined and instituted, by the cheefe
founder of all things, commended by the same, made honourable,
and made holy by the same. For, at the first when he
made man of the earth, he did perceiue that his life should be
miserable and vnsauerie, except he ioyned Eue as mate vnto
After man was made, |
the woman was ioyned |
vnto him. |
Matrimonie renewed |
after the flood. |
him. Whereupon he did not make the wife vpon the same
clay, whereof he made man: but he made her of Adams
Ribbes, to the end we might plainly vnderstande, that nothing
ought to be more deare vnto vs then our wife, nothing more
nigh vnto vs, nothing surer ioyned, and (as a man would saie)
faster glewed together. The self same God, after the generall
flood being reconciled to mankinde, is said to proclaime this
law first of all, not that men should liue single, but that they
should encrease, bee multiplied and fill the earth. But howe
I pray you could this thing bee, sauing by Mariage and
lawfull comming together? And first least we should alledge
here, either the libertie of Moses lawe, or els the necessitie of
that tyme: what other meaning els, hath that common and
Natures worke, |
allowed by Gods |
worde. |
commendable report of Christ in the Gospell, for this cause
(saieth he) shall man leaue father and mother, and cleaue to
his wife. And what is more holy then the reuerence and
loue due vnto parents? And yet the trueth promised in
Matrimonie, is preferred before it, and by whose meanes?
Marie by God himself, at what time? Forsooth not only
among the Iewes, but also among the Christians. Men
forsake father and mother, and takes themselues wholy to
their wiues. The sonne being past twentie yeeres, is free and
at libertie. Yea, the sonne being abdicated be commeth no
sonne. But it is death onely that parteth maried folke, if yet
death doth parte them. Nowe, if the other Sacraments
(whereunto the Church of Christ chiefly leaneth) be reuerently
vsed, who doeth not see, that this Sacrament, should
haue the most reuerence of all, the which was instituted of
God, and that first and before all other. As for the other,
they were instituted vpon earth, this was ordeined in Paradise:
the other were giuen for a remedie, this was appointed for
the felowship of felicitie: the other were applied to mans
nature, after the fal this only was giuen, when man was in
most perfite state. If we coumpt
those Lawes good, that
mortall men haue enacted, shall not the lawe of Matrimonie
bee most holy, which wee haue receiued of him, by whom we
haue receiued life, the which Lawe was then together enacted,
when man was first created? And lastly, to strengthen this
Lawe, with an example and deede doen, Christ being a yong
man (as the storie reporteth) was called to Mariage, and came
Mariage beautified |
by a miracle. |
thether willingly with his mother, and not only was he there
present, but also he did honest the feast with a wonderfull
maruaile, beginning first in none other place, to worke his
wonders and to doe his miracles. Why then I praie you (will
one saie) how happeneth it, that Christ forbare Mariage? As
though good sir, there are not many things in Christ, at the
which we ought rather to maruaile, then seeke to follow.
He was borne, and had no father, he came into this world,
without his mothers painfull trauaile, he came out of the
graue when it was closed vp, what is not in him aboue
nature? Let these things be proper vnto him. Let vs that
liue within the bounds of nature, reuerence those things that
are aboue nature, and followe such things as are within our
reache, such as wee are able to compasse. But yet (you say)
hee would bee borne of a virgin: of a virgin (I graunt) but
yet of a maried virgin. A virgin being a mother did moste
become God, and being maried, she shewed what was best for
vs to do. Virginitie did become her, who being vndefiled
brought him forth by heauenly inspiration, that was vndefiled.
And yet Ioseph being her housbande, doeth commend vnto
vs the lawe of chast Wedlock. Yea, how could he better set
out the societie in Wedlocke, than that willing to declare the
secrete societie of his Diuine nature, with the bodie and soule
of man which is wonderfull, euen to the heauenly Angels,
and to shewe his vnspeakable and euer abiding loue toward
his church: He doth call himself the Bridegrome, and her the
bride. Greate is the Sacrament of Matrimonie (saieth Paule)
betwixt Christ and his Church. If there had been vnder
heauen, any holier yoke, if there had bene any more religious
couenaunt, then is Matrimonie, without doubt the example
thereof had bene vsed. But what like thing to you reade in
all scripture of the single life? The Apostle S. Paule in the
thirteene Chapter of his Epistle to the Hebrues, calleth
Matrimonie honorable among all men,
and the bed vndefiled,
& yet the single life is not so much as once named in the
same place. Nay, they are not borne withall that liue single,
except they make some recompence, with doing some great
thing. For els, if a man following the law of Nature, doe
labour to get children, he is euer to be preferred before him,
that liueth still vnmaried, for none other end, but because
he would bee out of trouble, and liue more free. We doe
reade, that such as are in very deede chast of their body, and
liue a virgines life, haue bene praised: but the single life was
neuer praised of it selfe. Now, againe the law of Moses,
accursed the barrennesse of maried folk: and we doe reade
that some were excommunicated, for the same purpose, and
banished from the Altar. And wherfore I praie you? Marie
sir, because that they like vnprofitable persons, and liuing
onely to themselues, did not encrease the worlde with any
issue. In Deuteronomi, it was the cheefest token of Gods
blessinges vnto the Israelites, that none should be barren
among them, neither man, nor yet woman. And Lia is
thought to be out of Gods fauour because she could not bring
forth children. Yea, and the Psalme of Dauid. 128. it is
coumpted on of the cheefest partes of blisse, to be a fruitfull
woman. Thy wife (saieth the Psalme) shalbe plentifull like
a Vine. And thy children like the branches of Oliues, round
about thy table. Then if the law doe condemne, and vtterly
disalowe barren Matrimonie, it hath alwaies muche more
condemned the single life of Batchlars. If the fault of nature
Hebrues law for |
maried folke. |
hath not escaped blame, the will of man can neuer want
rebuke. If they are accursed that would haue children, and
can get none, what deserue thei which neuer trauaile to escape
barrennes? The Hebrues had such a reuerence to maried
folke, that he which had maried a wife, the same yeere should
not be forced to goe on warfare. A Citie is like to fal to
ruine, except there be watchmen to defend it with armor.
But assured destruction must here nedes folow, except men
through the benefite of mariage supplie issue, the which
through mortalitie, doe from time to time decaie.
Plutarchus in the |
life of Cato. |
Ouer and besides this, the
Romaines did laie a penaltie
vpon their backe, that liued a single life, yea, they would not
suffer them to beare any office in the Commonweale. But
they that had encreased the world
with issue, had a rewarde
by common assent, as men that did deserue well of their
countrey. The olde foren lawes did appoint penalties for
such as liued single, the which although, they were qualified
by Constancius the Emperour, in the fauour of Christes
Religion: yet these lawes doe declare, how little it is for the
common weales aduauncement, that either a Citie should be
lesned for loue of sole life, or els that the Countrey should be
filled full of Bastards. And besides this, the Emperour Augustus,
being a sore punisher of euill behauiour,
examined
a soldiour because he did not marie his wife, according to
the lawes, the which soldiour had hardly escaped iudgement,
if he had not got three children by her. And in this point
doe the lawes of the Emperours, seeme fauourable to maried
folke, that they abrogate such vowes, as were proclaimed to
be kept, and brought in by Miscella, and would that after the
penaltie were remitted, such couenaunts being made against
all right and conscience, should also be taken of none effect,
and as voyde in the lawe. Ouer and besides this, Vlpianus
doth declare, that the matter of Dowries was euermore, and
in al places the chiefest aboue all other, the which should
neuer haue been so, except there came to the Common weale,
some especiall profite by Mariage. Mariage hath euer beene
reuerenced, but fruitfulnesse of body, hath been much more,
for so soone as one got the name of a father, there discended
not onely vnto him inheritaunce of land, but all bequestes, and
goods of such his freendes, as dyed intestate. The which
thing appeareth plainly, by the Satyre Poet.
Through me thou art
made, an heire to haue lande,
Thou hast all bequestes one with an other:
All goodes and cattell are come to thy hande,
Yea goodes intestate, thou shalt haue sure.
Now he that hath three
children, was more fauoured, for
he was exempted from all outwarde ambassages. Againe, hee
that had fiue children, was discharged & free from all
personall office, as to haue the gouernaunce, or patronage of
young Gentlemen, the which in those daies was a greate
charge, and full of paines, without any profite at al.
He that had thirtene children, was free by the Emperour
Iulianus lawe, not onely from being a man of armes, or
a Captaine ouer horsemen: but also
from all other offices in
the common weale. And the wise founders of al lawes,
giue good reason why such fauour was shewed to maried folke.
For what is more blesseful then to liue euer? Now, where as
nature hath denied this, Matrimonie doeth giue it by
a certaine sleight, so much as may be. Who doth not desire
to bee bruted, and liue through fame among men hereafter?
Now, there is no building of Pillers, no erecting of Arches,
no blasing of Armes, that doth more set forth a mans name,
then doth the encrease of children. Albinus obteined his
purpose of the Emperour Adrian, for none other desert of his,
but that he had begot an house full of children. And
therefore the Emperour (to the hinderance of his treasure)
suffered the children to enter wholy vpon their fathers
Licurgus law against |
vnmaried folke. |
possession, for asmuch as he knewe well, that his Realme was
more strengthened with encrease of children, then with store
of money. Againe, all other Lawes are neither agreeing for
all Countries, not yet vsed at all time. Licurgus made a lawe,
yt they which maried not, should be kept in Sommer from the
sight of stage Plaies, and other wonderfull shewes, and in
Winter, they should go naked about the Market place, and
accursing themselues, they should confesse openly that they
Punishments appointed |
for breaking of Wedlock. |
The Grecians reuengement |
for aduoutry. |
had iustly deserued such punishment, because they did not
liue according to the Lawes. And without any more adoe,
will yee knowe how much our olde auncesters heretofore
esteemed Matrimonie? Weigh well, and consider the punishment
for breaking of wedlock. The Greekes heretofore
thought it meete, to punish the breach of Matrimonie with
battaile, that continued ten yeres. Yea, moreouer not onely
by the Romaine Lawe, but also by the Hebrues and straungers,
aduouterers persons were punished with death. If a theefe
paied fower times the value of that which he tooke awaie, he
was deliuered: but an aduouterers offence, was punished with
The Hebrues stoned |
aduouterers. |
ye sword. Among the Hebrues, the people stoned the
aduouterers to death with their owne handes, because they
had broken that, without which the worlde could not continue.
And yet they thought not this sore Law sufficient enough,
but graunted further to run him through without Lawe, that
was taken in aduoutrie, as who should say, they graunted that
to the greefe of maried folke, the which they would hardly
Lawfull for the |
maried man among the |
Hebrues, to kill |
the aduouterer. |
graunt to him, that stood in his owne defence for saufegard
of his life, as though he offended more hainously that tooke
a mans wife, then hee did that tooke away a mans life.
Assuredly Wedlocke must needes seeme to be a most holy
thing, considering, that being once broken, it must needes
bee purged with mans bloud, the reuenger whereof, is not
forced to abide, either Lawe or Iudge, the which libertie is
not graunted any, to vse vpon hym that hath killed, either
his father or his mother. But what doe wee with these
Lawes written? This is the law of nature, not written in the
Tables of Brasse, but firmely printed in our mindes, the which
Lawe, whosoeuer doth not obeye, he is not worthie to be
called a man, much lesse shall he be compted a Citezen. For,
if to liue well (as the Stoikes wittely doe dispute) is to followe
the course of nature, what thing is so agreeing with nature,
as Matrimonie? For there is nothing so naturall, not onely
vnto mankind, but also vnto all other liuing creatures, as it
is for euery one of them, to keepe their owne kind from
decaie, and through increase of issue, to make their whole
kinde immortall. The which thing (all men knowe) can
neuer be doen without Wedlocke, and carnall copulation.
It were a foule thing that brute beastes should obey the Lawe
of nature, and men like Giauntes should fight against Nature.
Whose worke, if we would narrowly looke vpon, we shall
perceiue that in al things here vpon earth, she would there
should be a certaine spice of Mariage.
I will not speake now of
Trees, wherein (as Plinie most
certainly writeth) there is found Mariage, with some manifest
difference of both kindes, that except the houseband Tree,
doe leane with his boughes, euen as though he should desire
copulation vpon the women Trees, growing round about him:
They would els altogether waxe barraine. The same Plinie
also doeth reporte, that certaine Authours doe thinke there
is both Male, and Female, in all things that the earth yeeldeth.
Mariage among |
precious stones. |
I will not speake of precious
Stones, wherein the same
Authour affirmeth, and yet not he onely neither, that there
is bothe Male, and Female among them. And I pray you,
hath not GOD so knitte all things together with certaine
linkes, that one euer seemeth to haue neede of an other?
What say you of the Skie or
Firmament, that is euer stirring
Mariage betwene the |
firmament and |
the earth. |
with continuall moouing? Doth it not plaie the part of
a houseband, while it puffeth vp the earth, the mother of all
things, and maketh it fruitfull, with casting seede (as a man
would say) vpon it. But I thinke it ouer tedious, to runne
ouer all things. And to what end are these things spoken?
Mary sir, because we might vnderstande, that through Mariage,
all things are and doe still continue, and with out the same,
all things doe decay and come to naught. The olde auncient
The fable of Giauntes |
that fought against |
Nature. |
and most wise Poets doe feigne (who had euer a desire vnder
the colour of fables, to set forth precepts of Philosophie) that
the Giauntes, which had Snakes feete, and were borne of the
earth, builded great hilles that mounted vp to heauen,
minding thereby to bee at vtter defiance with God, and all
his Angels. And what meaneth this fable? Marie, it sheweth
vnto vs, that certaine fierce and sauage men, such as were
vnknowne, could not abide wedlock for any worlds good, and
therefore they were striken doune hedlong with lidghtning,
that is to say: they were vtterly destroyed, when they sought
to eschue that, whereby the weale and saufegard of all mankind,
onely doth consist.
Now againe, the same Poets doe
declare that Orpheus the
Musition and Minstrell, did stirre and make soft with his
pleasaunt melodie, the most harde Rockes and stones. And
what is their meaning herein? Assuredly nothing els, but that
a wise and well spoken man, did call backe harde harted men,
such as liued abrode like beastes from open whoredom, &
brought them to liue after the most holy lawes of Matrimonie.
Thus we see plainly, that such a one as hath no mind of
mariage, seemeth to be no man but rather a stone, an enemie
to nature, a rebell to God himselfe, seeking through his owne
folly, his last ende and destruction.
The most wicked can |
not chose but allow |
mariage. |
Well, let vs goe on still
(seeing we are fallen into fables,
that are not fables altogether) when the same Orpheus, in
the middes of Hell, forced Pluto himselfe and all the Deuils
there, to graunt him leaue, to cary away his wife Euridice
what other thing doe we thinke, that the Poets meant, but
onely to set forth vnto vs, the loue in wedlocke, the which
euen among the Deuilles, was coumpted good and godly.
And this also makes well for
the purpose, that in olde tyme
they made Iupiter Gamelius,
the God of Marriage, and Iuno
Lucina, Lady Midwife, to helpe such women as laboured in
childbed, being fondly deceiued, and supersticiously erring in
naming of the Gods: and yet not missing the trueth, in declaring
that Matrimony is an holy thing, and meete for the worthinesse
therof, that the Gods in heauen should haue care ouer
it. Among diuers Countries and diuers men, there haue
beene diuers lawes and Customes vsed. Yet was there neuer
any Countrey so sauage, none so farre from al humanitie,
where the name of Wedlocke was not coumpted holie, and
All Nations euer |
estemed Mariage. |
had in great reuerence. This the Thracian, this the Sarmate,
this the Indian, this the Grecian, this the Latine,
yea, this the Britaine that dwelleth in the furthest part of
all the
world, or if
there be any that dwell beyond them? Marie, because that thing
must needes be common to all, which the common mother vnto
all, hath graffed in vs all, and hath so throughly graffed the
same in vs, that not only Stockdoues and Pigions, but also
the most wilde beasts, haue a Naturall feeling of this thing.
For the Lions are gentle against the Lionesse. The Tygers
fight for safegarde of their young whelpes. The Asse runnes
through the hot fire (which is made to keepe her away) for
safegarde of her issue. And this they call the lawe of Nature,
the which as it is of most strength & force, so it spreadeth
abroad most largely. Therefore, as he is coumpted no good
Gardener, that being content with thinges present, doth
diligently proyne his olde Trees, and hath no regarde either
to ympe or graffe yong Settes: because the selfe same Orchard
(though it bee neuer so well trimmed) must needes decay in
time, & all the Trees dye within fewe yeares: so he is not
to be coumpted halfe a diligent Citizein, that beeing content
with the present multitude, hath no regarde to encrease the
number. Therefore, there is no one man, that euer hath
been coumpted a worthie Citezein, who hath not laboured to
get children, and sought to bring them vp in godlinesse.
The Hebrues and Persians |
had a number of wiues. |
Abraham. |
Among the Hebrues and
the Persians, he was most commended
that had most wiues, as though the Countrey were
most beholding to him, that encrease the same with the
greatest number of children. Doe you seeke to be coumpted
more holy then Abraham himselfe? Well, he should neuer
haue beene coumpted the Father of many Nations, and that
through Gods furtheraunce, if he had
forborne the companie
of his wife. Do you looke to be reckened more deuout
then Iacob. He doubted nothing to raunsome Rachell from
Iacob. |
Salomon. |
Socrates. |
her great bondage. Will you bee taken for wiser then
Salomon? And yet I pray you, what a number of wiues kept
he in one house? Will you bee coumpted more chast then Socrates,
who is reported to beare at home with Zantippe,
that
very shrowe, and yet not so much therefore (as he is wont to
iest, according to his olde maner) because he might learne
pacience at home, but also because he might not seeme to
come behinde with his duetie, in doing the will of Nature.
For he being a man, such a one (as Appollo iudged him by his
Oracle to bee wise) did well perceiue that he was got for this
cause, borne for this cause, and therefore bounde to yeeld so
much vnto Nature. For, if the olde auncient Philosophers
have said well, if our Diuines haue proued the thing not
without reason, if it be vsed euery where, for a common
Prouerbe, and almost in euery mans mouth, that neither
GOD, nor yet Nature, did euer make any thing in vaine.
Why did he giue vs such members, how happeneth wee haue
such lust, and such power to get issue, if the single life and
none other, bee altogether praise worthie? If one should
bestowe vpon you a very good thing: as a Bowe, a Coate, or
a Sworde, all men would thinke you were not worthie to
haue the thing, if either you could not, or you would not
vse it and occupie it. And whereas all other thinges, are
ordeined vpon such great considerations, it is not like that
Nature slipt, or forgat her selfe when she made this one thing.
And now here will some say, that this foule and filthie desire
and stirring vnto lust, came neuer in by Nature, but through
sinne: for whose wordes I passe not a strawe, seeing their
sayinges are as false as God is true. For I pray you was not
Matrimonie instituted (whose woorke cannot bee done without
these members) before there was no sinne. And againe,
whence haue all other Beastes their prouocations? Of Nature,
or of sinne? A man would thinke they had them of Nature.
But shall I tell you at a worde, wee make that filthie by our
owne immagination, which of the owne Nature is good and
godlie. Or els if wee will examine matter (not according to
the opinion of men, but waigh them as they are of their owne
Nature) how chaunceth it, that we
thinke it lesse filthie to
eate, to chewe, to disgest, to emptie the bodie, and to sleepe,
then it is to vse carnall Copulation, such as is lawfull and
permitted. Now sir (you may say) wee must followe vertue,
rather then Nature. A gentle dish. As though any thing
can bee called vertue, that is contrary vnto Nature. Assuredly
there is nothing that can bee perfectly gotte, either through
labour, or through learning, if man grounde not his doinges
altogether vpon Nature.
But you will liue an
Apostles life, such as some of them did
that liued single: and exhorted other to the same kinde of life.
Tush, let them followe the Apostles that are Apostles in
deede, whose office seeing it is both to teach, and bring vp
the people in Gods doctrine: they are not able to discharge
their dueties, both to their flocke, and to their wife and
familie: although it is well knowne, that some of the Apostles
had wiues. But be it that Bishoppes liue single, or graunt we
them to haue no wiues. What, doe ye followe the profession
of the Apostles, beeing one that is farthest in life from their
vocation: being both a Temporal man, and one that liueth
of your owne. They had this Pardon graunted them to be
cleane voyd from Mariage, to the end they might bee at
leasure, to get vnto Christ a more plentifull number of his
children. Let this be the order of Priestes and Monkes, who
belike haue entred into Religion and rule of the Essens (such
as among the Iewes lothed Mariage) but your calling is
an other way. Nay, but (you will say) Christ himself hath
coumpted them blessed, which haue gelded themselues for the
kingdome of God. Sir, I am content to admit the aucthoritie,
but thus I expound the meaning. First, I thinke that
this doctrine of Christ, did chiefly belong vnto that time,
when it behoued them chiefly to be voyde of all cares and
businesse of this world. They were faine to trauaile into all
places, for the persecutors were euer readie to lay hands on
them. But now the world is so, that a man can find in no
place, the vprightnesse of behauiour lesse strained, then among
married folke.
Let the swarmes of Monkes
and Nunnes, set forth their
order neuer so much, let them boast and bragge their bellies
full, of their Ceremonies and Church seruice, wherein they
chiefly passe all other: yet is
Wedlocke (beeing well and
truely kept) a most holy kinde of life. Againe, would to
God they were gelded in very deede, whatsoeuer they bee
that colour their naughtie liuing, with such a ioylie name of
gelding, liuing in much more filthie lust, vnder the cloake and
pretence of Chastitie. Neither can I reporte for very shame,
into how filthie offences they doe often fall, that will not vse that
remeadie, which Nature hath graunted vnto man. And last
of all, where doe you reade, that euer Christ commaunded any
man to liue single, and yet he doth openly forbid diuorcement.
Then he doth not worst of
all (in my iudgement) for the
Common weale of mankinde, that graunted libertie vnto
Priestes: yea, and Monkes also (if neede bee) to marrie, and to
take them to their wiues, namely, seing there is such an
vnreasonable number euery where, among whom I pray you,
how many bee there that liue chast. How much better were
it, to turne their Concubines into wiues, that whereas they
haue them now to their great shame, with an vnquiet
conscience, they might haue the other openly with good
reporte, and get children, and also bring them vp godlie, of
whom they themselues, not onely might not be ashamed, but
also might be compted honest men for them. And I thinke
the Bishops officers would haue procured this matter long
agoe, if they had not found great gaines by Priestes Lemmans,
then they were like to haue by Priestes wiues.
But virginitie forsooth is an
heauenly thing, it is an Angels
life. I answere: Wedlocke is a manly thing, such as is meete
for man. And I talke now as man vnto man. I graunt
you, that virginitie is a thing praise worthie, but so farre I am
content to speake in praise of it, if it bee not so praised,
as though the iust should altogether followe it. For if men
commonly should begin to like it, what thing could be
inuented more perilous to a common weale then virginitie?
Now, bee it that other deserue great praise for their maidenhead,
you notwithstanding cannot want great rebuke, seeing
it lieth in your handes to keepe that house from decay,
wherof your lineally descended, and to continue still the name
of your auncesters, who deserue most worthely to bee knowne
for euer. And last of all, he deserueth as much praise as they
which keepe their maidenhood: that keepes himselfe true to
his wife, & marieth rather for
encrease of children, then to
satisfie his lust. For if a brother be commaunded to stirre vp
seede to his brother that dieth without issue, will you suffer ye
hope of al your stocke to decay: namely, seeing there is none
other of your name and stocke but your self alone, to continue
the posteritie. I know well enough, that the auncient Fathers
haue set foorth in great volumes the praise of virginitie,
Hieromes praise |
vpon Virginitie. |
among whom Hierome doth so take on, and praiseth it so much
aboue the Starres, that he fell in maner to depraue Matrimonie,
and therefore was required of godlie Bishops, to call
backe his words that he had spoken. But let vs beare with
such heate for that time sake, I would wish now, that they
which exhort young folke euery where, and without respect
(such as yet knowe not themselues) to liue a single life, and to
professe virginitie: that they would bestowe the same labor
in setting forth the discription of chast and pure wedlocke.
And yet those bodies that are in such great loue with
virginitie, are well contented that men should fight against
the Turkes, which in number are infinitely greater then we
are. And now if these men thinke right in this behalfe, it
must needes be thought right, good, and godly, to labour
earnestly for children getting, and to substitute youth from
time to time for the maintenance of warre. Except peraduenture
they thinke that Gunnes, Billes, Pikes, and Nauies
should be prouided for battaill, and that men stand in no
steede at all with them. They also allowe it wel, that we
should kill miscreant and Heathen Parents, that the rather
their children not knowing of it, might bee Baptized and
made Christians. Now if this bee right and lawfull, how
much more gentlenesse were it to haue children baptized,
being born in lawfull mariage. There is no Nation so
sauage, nor yet so hard harted within the whole worlde, but
the same abhorreth murdering of Inphants, and new borne
babes. Kings also and head rulers, doe likewise punish most
streightly, all such as seeke meanes to be deliuered before
their time, or vse Phisicke to waxe barraine, and neuer to
beare Children. What is the reason? Marie they coumpt it
small difference betwixt him that killeth the childe, so sone
as it beginneth to quicken: & the other that seeketh all meanes
possible, neuer to haue any childe at all. The self same thing
that either withereth and drieth
awaie in the bodie, or els
putrifieth within thee, and so hurteth greatly thy health, yea,
that selfe same which falleth from thee in thy sleepe, would
haue beene a man, if thou thy selfe haddest beene a man. The
Hebrewes abhorre that man, and wish him Gods cursse, that
(being commaunded to marrie with the wife of his dead brother)
did cast his seede vpon the grounde, least any issue should be
had, and he was euer thought vnworthie to liue here vpon
earth, that would not suffer that childe to liue, which was
quicke in the mothers wombe. But I praie you, how little
doe they swarue from this offence, which binde them selues to
liue barraine all the daies of their life? Doe they not seeme to
kill as many men as were like to haue beene borne, if they
had bestowed their endeuours to haue got children? Now I
pray you, if a man had lande that were very fat and fertile,
and suffered the same for lacke of mannering, for euer to
waxe barraine, should he not, or were he not worthie to be
punished by the Lawes, considering it is for the common
weales behoue, that euery man should well and truely husband
his own. If that man be punished, who little heedeth the
maintenaunce of his Tillage, the which although it bee neuer
so well mannered, yet it yeeldeth nothing els but Wheate,
Barley, Beanes, and Peason: what punishment is he worthie
to suffer, that refuseth to Plowe that land which being Tilled,
yeeldeth children. And for plowing lande it is nothing els, but
painfull toyling from time to time: but in getting children
there is a pleasure, which being ordeined as a readie rewarde
for paines taking, asketh a short trauaile for all the Tillage.
Therfore if the working of Nature, if honestie, if vertue, if
inward zeale, if godlinesse, if duetie maie moue you, why can you
not abide that which God hath ordeined, Nature hath established,
reason doth counsaile, Gods worde and mans worde doe commende,
all Lawes doe commende, the consent of all Nations
doth allowe, whereunto also the example of all good men doth
exhort you. That if euery honest man should desire many thinges
that are most painfull for none other cause, but only for that
they are honest, no doubt but Matrimony ought aboue all
other, most of all to be desired, as the which wee may doubt,
whether it haue more honestie in it, or bring more delight
and pleasure with it. For what can be more pleasant then to
liue with her, with whom not onely
you shall be ioyned in
fellowship of faithfulnesse, and most heartie good will, but
also you shall be coupled together most assuredly, with the
company of both your bodies: If we count that great pleasure,
which we receiue of the good will of our friends and acquaintance,
how pleasant a thing is it aboue all other to haue one,
with whom you may breake the bottome of your heart, with
whom you may talke as freely as with your self, into whose
trust you may safely commit your self, such a one as thinketh
all your goodes to bee her charge. Now what an heauenly
blisse (trowe you) is the companie of man and wife together,
seeing that in all the world there can nothing bee found,
either of greater weight & worthines, or els of more strength
and assurance. For with friends we ioyne onely with them
in good wil, and faithfulnesse of mind, but with a wife we are
matched together, both in heart and mind, in body and soule,
sealed together with the bond & league of an holy sacrament,
and parting all the goods we haue indifferently betwixt vs.
Againe, when other are matched together in friendship, doe
we not see what dissembling they vse, what falshod they
practise, & what deceiptful parts they play? Yea, euen those
whom we thinke to be most assured friends: as Swalowes flie
away when Sommer is past, so they hide their heads when
fortune gins to faile. And oft times when wee get a new
frend, we straight forsake our old. We heare tel of very few
that haue continued friends euen till their last end: whereas
the faithfulnes of a wife is not stained with deceipt, nor
dusked with any dissembling, nor yet parted with any charge
of the world, but disseuered at last by death only, no not by
death neither. She forsakes and sets light by father & mother,
sister & brother for your sake, and for your loue only. She
only passeth vpon you, yea, she desires to dye with you. Haue you
any worldly substaunce? You haue one that wil maintaine it,
you haue one wil encrease it. Haue you none? You haue
a wife that will get it. If you liue in prosperitie, your ioye is
doubled: if the world goe not with you, you haue a wife to
put you in good comfort, to be at your commaundement, and
readie to serue your desire, and to wish that such euill as hath
happened vnto you, might chaunce vnto her selfe. And doe
you thinke that any pleasure in all
the world is to bee
compared, with such a goodly fellowshippe and familier liuing
together? If you keepe home, your wife is at hand to keepe
your companie, the rather that you might feele no wearines
of liuing al alone: if you ride forth, you haue a wife to bid
you farewell with a kisse, longing much for you beeing from
home, and glad to bid you welcome home at your next
returne. A sweete mate in your youth, thankfull comfort in
your age. Euery societie or companying together is delightfull,
& wished for by Nature of al men, for asmuch as Nature
hath ordeined vs to be sociable, friendly, & louing together.
Now how can this fellowship of man and wife be otherwise
then most pleasaunt, where all things are common together
betwixt them both. Now I thinke he is most worthie to bee
despised aboue all other, that is borne as a man would say for
himself, that liueth to himself, that seeketh for himself, that
spareth for himself, maketh cost onely vpon himselfe, that
loueth no man, and no man loueth him. Would not a man
thinke that such a monster, were meete to be cast out of all
mens companie (with Tymon that careth for no man) into the
Tymon a deadly |
hater of all |
companie. |
middest of the Sea. Neither doe I here vtter vnto you these
pleasures of the body, the which whereas Nature hath made
to bee most pleasant vnto man, yet these great witted men
rather hide them and dissemble them (I cannot tell how) then
vtterly contemne them. And yet what is he that is so sower
of witte, and so drouping of braine (I will not say) blockheaded,
or insensate, that is not mooued with such pleasure:
namely, if hee may haue his desire without offence: either of
God or man, and without hinderance of his estimation.
Truly I would take such a one not to be a man, but rather
bee a stone. Although this pleasure of the body, is the least
part of all those good things that are in wedlocke. But be it
that you passe not vpon this pleasure, and thinke it vnworthie
for man to vse it, although in deede wee deserue not the name
of man without it, but coumpt it among the least and
vttermost profites that Wedlocke hath. Now I pray you,
what can bee more hartely desired then chast loue, what can
bee more holie, what can bee more honest? And among all
these pleasures, you get vnto you a ioyly sort of kinsfolk, in
whom you may take much delite. You haue other parents,
other bretherne, sisterne, and
nephewes. Nature in deed can
giue you but one father, and one mother: by Mariage you
get vnto you an other father, and an other mother, who
cannot chuse but loue you with all their hearts, as the which
haue put into your handes, their owne flesh and blood. Now
againe, what a ioye shall this be vnto you, when your most
faire wife shall make you a Father, in bringing forth a faire
Childe vnto you, where you shall haue a pretie little boye,
running vp and downe your house, such a one as shall expresse
your looke, and your wiues looke, such a one as shall call you
dad with his sweete lipsing wordes. Now last of all, when
you are thus lincked in Loue, the same shall bee so fastned
and bounde together, as though it were with an Adamant
stone, that Death it selfe can neuer bee able to vndoe it.
Thrise happie are they (quoth Horace) yea, more then thrise
happie are they, whom these sure bands doe holde: neither
though they are by euill reporters full oft set asunder, shall
Loue bee vnlosed betwixt them two, till Death them both
depart. You haue them that shall comfort you in your latter
daies, that shall close vp your eyes when God shall call you,
that shall burie you, and fulfill all thinges belonging to your
Funerall, by whom you shall seeme to bee newe borne. For
so long as they shall liue, you will neuer bee thought dead
your selfe. The goodes and lands that you haue got, goe not
to other heires then to your owne. So that vnto such as
haue fulfilled all thinges, that belong vnto mans life, Death it
selfe cannot seeme better. Old age commeth vpon vs al, will
we, or nill we, and this way Nature prouided for vs, that we
should waxe yong again in our children & nephewes. For
what man can be greeued that he is old, when he seeth his
owne countenance, which he had being a childe, to appeare
liuely in his sonne? Death is ordained for all mankind, & yet
by this meanes only, Nature by her prouidence, mindeth vnto
vs a certain immortalitie, while she encreaseth one thing
vpon an other, euen as a yong graffe buddeth out, when the
old Tree is cut doune. Neither can he seeme to dye, that
when God calleth him, leaueth a yong childe behind him.
But I know well enough, what you say to your self al this
while of my long talke. Mariage is an happie thing, if all
thinges hap well, what if one haue a curst wife? What if she
be light? What if his children bee
vngracious? Thus I see you
remember all such men, as by Mariage haue beene vndone.
Well, goe to it, tell as many as you can, and spare not: you
shall finde all these were the faults of the persons, and not the
Euill wiues happen |
to euil men only. |
faultes of Marriage. For beleeue me, none haue euill wiues,
but such as are euill men. And as for you sir, you may chuse
a good wife if you list. But what if she bee crooked and
mard altogether, for lacke of good ordering. A good honest
wife, may be made an euill woman by a naughtie husband, and
an euill wife hath beene made a good woman, by an honest
man. Wee crye out of wiues vntruely, and accuse them
without cause. There is no man (if you will beleeue me) that
euer had an euill wife, but through his owne default. Now
againe, an honest Father, bringeth forth honest children, like
vnto himselfe. Although euen these children, howsoeuer
they are borne, commonly become such men, as their education
Ielousie vnknowne |
to wisemen. |
and bringing vp is. And as for Ielousie, you shall not
neede to feare that fault at all. For none bee troubled with
such a disease but those only that are foolish Louers. Chast,
godlie, and lawfull loue, neuer knewe what Ielousie ment.
What meane you to call to your minde, and remember such
sore Tragedies, and dolefull dealinges, as haue beene betwixt
man and wife. Such a woman beeing naught of her bodie,
hath caused her husband to lose his head: an other haue
poysoned her good man, the third with her churlish dealing
(which her husband could not beare) hath beene his vtter
vndoing, and brought him to his ende. But I pray you sir,
why doe you not think vpon Cornelia, wife vnto Tiberius
Graccus? Why doe ye not minde that most worthie wife, or
that most vnworthie man Alcestes? Why remember ye not Iulia
Pompeies wife, or Porcia Brutus wife? And
why not
Alcestes' Wife. Iulia. |
Porcia. Artemesia. |
Hipsicratea. |
Tertia Aemilia. |
Turia. Lucretia. |
Lentula. Arria. |
Artemesia, a woman most worthie euer to bee remembred?
Why not Hipsicratea, wife vnto Mithridates King of Pontus?
Why doe you not call to remembraunce, the gentle nature of Tertia
Aemilia? Why doe ye not consider the
faithfulnesse
of Turia? Why commeth not Lucretia and Lentula
to your
rememberaunce? And why not Arria? Why not a thousand
other, whose chastitie of life, and faithfulnesse towardes their
husbands, could not bee chaunged, no not by death. A good
woman (you will say) is a rare bird, and hard to bee found in
all the world. Well then sir, imagine
your selfe worthie to
haue a rare wife, such as fewe man haue. A good woman
(saith the wiseman) is a good portion. Be you bold to hope
for such a one, as is worthie your maners. The chiefest
point standeth in this, what maner of woman you chuse,
how you vse her, how you order your selfe towards her.
But libertie (you will say) is much more pleasaunt: for
whosoeuer is married, weareth fetters vpon his legges, or
rather carieth a clog, the which he can neuer shake of, till
Death part their yoke. To this I aunswer, I cannot see what
pleasure a man shall haue, to liue alone. For if libertie bee
delightfull, I would thinke you should get a mate vnto you,
with whom you should part stakes, and make her priuie of
all your ioyes. Neither can I see any thing more free, then
is the seruitude of these two, where the one is so much
beholding and bound to the other, that neither of them both
would be lose though they might. You are bound vnto him,
whom you receiue into your friendship: but in Marriage
neither partie findeth fault, that their libertie is taken away
from them. Yet once againe you are sore afraied, least when
your children are taken away by death, you fall to mourning
for want of issue. Well sir, if you feare lack of issue, you
must marie a wife for ye self same purpose, the which only
shalbe a meane, that you shal not want issue. But what doe
you search so diligently, nay so carefully, all the incommodities
of Matrimonie, as though single life had neuer any
incommoditie ioyned with it at all. As though there were
any kinde of life in al the world, that is not subiect to al
euils that may happen. He must needes goe out of this
world, that lookes to liue without feeling of any greefe.
And in comparison of that life, which the Saincts of God shall
haue in heauen, this life of man is to bee coumpted a death,
and not a life. But if you consider things within the
compasse of mankinde, there is nothing either more safe,
more quiet, more pleasaunt, more to be desired, or more
happie then is the married mans life. How many doe you
see, that hauing once felt the sweetnesse of Wedlocke, doth
not desire eftsones to enter into the same? My friend Mauricius,
whom you knowe to be a very wiseman, did not
he
the next Moneth after his wife died (whom he loued dearely)
get him straight a newe wife? Not
that he was impacient of
his lust, and could not forbeare any longer, but hee saied
plainly, it was no life for him to be without a wife, which
should bee with him as his yokefellowe, and companion in all
things. And is not this the fourth wife that our friend Iouius
hath maried? And yet he so loued the other when
they were on liue, that none was able to comfort him in his
heauinesse: And now he hastened so much (when one was
dead) to fill vp and supplie the voyde roume of his Chamber,
as though he had loued the other very little. But what doe
Necessitie enforceth |
Mariage. |
we talke so much of the honestie and pleasure herein, seeing
that not onely profite doth aduise vs, but also neede doth
earnestly force vs to seeke marriage. Let it bee forbidden
that man and woman shall not come together, and within
fewe yeares all mankinde must needes decay for euer. When Xerxes
King of the Persians, beheld from an high
place that
great Armie of his, such as almost was incredible: Some
saied he could not forbeare weeping, considering of so many
thousands, there was not one like to bee aliue within seuentie
yeares after. Now, why should not wee consider the same
of all mankinde, which he ment only of his armie. Take
away mariage, and how many shall remaine after a hundred
yeares, of so many Realmes, Countries, Kingdomes, Cities,
& all other assemblies that be of men throughout the whole
world? On now, praise we a Gods name, the single life aboue
the Rocke, the which is like for euer to vndoe all mankinde.
What Plague, what infection can either Heauen or Hell,
sende more harmefull vnto mankinde? What greater euil
is to be feared by any flood? What could bee looked for more
sorowfull, although the flame of Phaeton should set the world
on fire againe? And yet by such sore tempestes, many thinges
haue beene saued harmelesse, but by the single life of man,
there can be nothing left at al. We see what a sort of
diseases, what diuersitie of mishappes doe night and day lye
in wait, to lessen the small number of mankind. How
many doth the Plague destroye, how many doe the Seas
swallowe, how many doth Battaile snatch vp? For I will not
speake of the daylie dying that is in all places. Death
taketh her flight euery where rounde about, she runneth ouer
them, she catcheth them vp, she hasteneth as much as she
can possible to destroye all
mankinde: and now doe we
so highly commend single life, and eschue Mariage? Except
happelie we like the profession of the Essens (of whom Iosephus
speaketh, that they will neither haue wife nor seruauntes) or
Essens hated |
mariage. |
Iosephus 18. |
Cap. lib. 12. |
the Dolopolitans, called otherwise the rascalles and slaues of
Cities, the which companie of them is alwaie encreased,
& continued by a sort of vagabond peasants that continue,
and bee from time to time still together. Doe wee looke
that some Iupiter should giue vs that same gift, the which he
is reported to haue giuen vnto Bees, that he should haue
issue without procreation, and gather with our mouthes out
of the flowers, the seede of our posteritie? Or els doe wee
desire, that like as the Poets feine Minerua, to be borne out
of Iupiters head: in like sort there should children leape out
of our heads? Or last of all doe wee looke, according as the
old Fables haue bene, that men should be borne out of the
earth, out of Rockes, out of stocks, stones, and old Trees.
Many things breed out of the earth, without mans labour at
all. Young shrubbes growe and shoute vp, vnder the shadowe
of their graunsire Trees. But Nature would haue man to
vse his owne waye of encreasing issue, that through labour
of both the Husbande and wife, mankinde might still bee
kept from destruction. But I promise you, if all men tooke
after you, and still forbeare to marie: I cannot see but that
these things which you wonder at, and esteeme so much,
could not haue beene at all. Doe you yet esteeme this single
life so greatly? Or doe wee praise so much virginitie aboue
all other? Why man, there will bee neither single men, nor
Virgines aliue, if men leaue to marrie, and minde not
procreation. Why doe you then preferre virginitie so much,
why set it you so hye, if it bee the vndoing of all the whole
world? It hath beene much commended, but it was for that
time, and in fewe. God would haue men to see, as though
it were a patterne, or rather a picture of the heauenly
habitation, where neither any man shall be married, nor yet
any shall giue theirs to Marriage. But when thinges bee
giuen for example a fewe may suffice, a number were to no
purpose. For euen as all groundes, though they be very
fruitfull, are not therefore turned into tillage for mans vse
and commoditie, but part lieth fallowe, and is neuer
mannered, part is kept &
cherished to like the eye, and for
mans pleasure: And yet in all the plentie of thinges, where
so great store of Land is, Nature suffereth very little to waxe
barren: but now if none should be tilled, & Plowmen went
to play, who seeth not but that we should all starue, and bee
faine shortly to eate Acornes: euen so it is praise worthie, if
a fewe liue single, but if all should seeke to liue single, so
many as be in this world, it were too great an inconuenience.
Now againe, be it that other deserue worthy praise that
seeke to liue a virgins life, yet it must nedes be a great fault
in you. Other shalbe thought to seke a purenesse of life,
you shalbe coumpted a Parricide, or a murtherer of your
stocke, that whereas you may by honest Mariage, encrease
your posteritie: you suffer it to decay for euer through your
wilfull single life. A man may hauing an house full of
children, commend one to God to liue a virgin all his life.
The plowman offereth to God the tenthes of his owne, and
not his whole Crop altogether: but you sir, must remember
that there is none left aliue of all your stocke, but your self
alone. And now it mattereth nothing whether you kill, or
refuse to saue that creature, which you onely might saue and
that with ease. But you will followe the example of your
sister, and liue single as she doth. And yet me thinketh you
should chiefly, euen for this selfe same cause bee afraied to
liue single. For whereas there was hope of issue heretofore
in you both, now you see there is no hope left but in you
only. Bee it that your sister may bee borne withall, because
she is a woman, and because of her yeares: for she being but
a gerle, and ouercome with sorrowe for losse of her Mother,
tooke the wrong way, she cast her selfe doune headlong
& became a Nunne, at the earnest sute either of foolish
women, or els of doltish Monkes: but you beeing much
elder, must euermore remember that you are a man: She
would needes dye together with her auncesters, you must
labour that your auncesters shall not dye at all. Your Sister
would not doe her duetie, but shrinke away: thinke you now
with your self, that you haue two offices to discharge. The
daughters of Loth neuer stucke at the matter, to haue
adoe with their dronken Father, thinking it better with
wicked Whoredome and Incest, to prouide for their posteritie,
then to suffer their stocke to dye
for euer. And will not you
with honest, godlie, and chast Marriage (which shall bee
without trouble, and turne to your great pleasure) haue
a regarde to your posteritie, most like els for euer to decay?
Therefore, let them on Gods name, followe the purpose of
chast Hippolitus, let them liue a single life that either can
be
maried men, and yet can get no children, or els such whose
stocke may bee continued, by meanes of other their kinsfolke,
or at the least whose kindered is such, that it were better for
the Common weale they were all dead, then any of that
name should be a liue, or els such men as the euerliuing God
of his most especiall goodnesse hath chosen out of the whole
world, to execute some heauenly office, whereof there is a
marueilous small number. But where as you, according to
the report of a Phisitian, that neither is vnlearned, nor yet
is any lyar, are like to haue many children hereafter, seeing
also you are a man of great Lands and Reuenues by your
auncesters, the house where of you came being both right
honorable, and right auncient, so that you could not suffer
it to perish, without your great offence, & great harme to
the Common weale. Againe, seeing you are of lustie yeares,
and very comely for your personage, and may haue a Maide
to your wife, such a one as none of your Countrey hath
knowne any, to be more absolute for all thinges, comming of
as noble a house as any of them, a chast one, a sober one,
a godly one, an excellent faire one, hauing with her
a wonderfull dowrie: seeing also your friendes desire you, your
kinsfolke weepe to win you, your Cousins and Aliaunce are
earnest in hande with you, your Countrey calles and cries
vpon you: the ashes of your auncesters from their graues
make heartie sute vnto you, do you yet holde backe: doe you
still minde a single life? If a thing were asked you that were
not halfe honest, or the which you could not well compasse,
yet at the instaunce of your friends, or for the loue of your
kinsfolke, you would be ouercome, and yeeld to their requests:
then how much more reasonable were it, that the
weeping teares of our friends, the heartie good wil of your
Countrey, the deare loue of your elders might win that thing
at your hands, vnto the which both the law of God and man
doth exhort you. Nature pricketh you forwarde, reason
leadeth you, honestie allureth you,
so many commodities cal
you, and last of al, necessitie it self doth constraine you. But
here an ende of all reasoning. For I trust you haue now, and
a good while agoe chaunged your mynd through mine aduise,
and take your self to better counsaile.
¶ Of
Exhortation.
THe places of exhorting, and
dehorting are the same
which wee vse in perswading, and disswading, sauing
that hee which vseth perswasion, seeketh by arguments to
compasse his deuise: he that labours to exhort, doth stirre
affection.
Erasmus sheweth these
to bee most especiall places, that
doe pertaine vnto exhortations.
{Praise or commendation. |
{Expectation of all men. |
{Hope of victorie. |
{Hope of renowne. |
{Feare of shame. |
{Greatnesse of reward. |
{Rehearsall of examples in all ages, and |
especially of things lately done. |
PRaysing is either of the man,
or of some deede done.
Wee shall exhort men to doe the thing, if wee shewe them
that it is a worthie attempt, a godly enterprise, and such as
fewe men hetherto haue aduentured. In praising a man, wee
shall exhort him to goe forward, considering it agreeth with
Praysing a man, |
the rather to |
encourage him. |
his wonted manhood, and that hetherto he hath not slacked
to hazard boldly vpon the best and worthiest deedes, requiring
him to make his ende aunswerable to his most worthie
beginninges, that he may ende with honor, which hath so
long continued in such renowme. For it were a foule shame
to lose honour through follie, which haue bene got through
vertue, and to appeare most slacke in keeping it, then he
seemed carefull at the first to attaine it.
Againe, whose name is
renowmed, his doinges from time
to time, will be thought more wonderfull, and greater
promises will men make vnto themselues of such mens
aduentures, in any common affaires, then of others whose
vertues are not yet knowen. A notable Master of Fence, is
marueilous to behold, & men looke earnestly to see him do
some wonder: how much more will they
looke, when they
heare tel, that a noble Captaine and an aduenturous prince,
shall take vpon him the defence and sauegard of his Countrey,
against the raging attemptes of his enemies? Therfore
Expectation of all |
men. Hope of victorie. |
a noble man cannot but goe forward with most earnest will,
seeing all men haue such hope in him, and coumpt him to be
their onely comfort, their fortresse and defence. And the
rather to encourage such right worthie, we may put them in
good hope to compasse their attempt, if we shewe them that
God is an assured guide vnto al those, that in an honest
quarell aduenture themselues, and shew their manly stomack.
Sathan himselfe the greatest aduersary that man hath, yeldeth
like a captiue when God doth take our part, much soner shal
al other be subiect vnto him, & crie Peccavi, for if God be
with him, what mattereth who be against him?
Fame foloweth worthie |
factes. Shame foloweth |
fearefulnesse, when |
manhood is thought |
needfull. |
Now, when victorie is got, what
honour doth ensue? Here
openeth a large field to speak of renoume, fame and endlesse
honour. In al ages the worthiest men, haue alwaies
aduentured their carcases, for the sauegard of their countrey,
thinking it better to die with honor, then to liue with shame.
Again, ye ruine of our realme should put vs to more shame,
then the losse of our bodies should turn vs to smart. For
our honestie being stained, ye paine is endles, but our
bodies
being gored, either the wound may sone be healed, or els our
paine being sone ended, the glory endureth for euer.
Heauen the reward of |
hault Captaines. |
Lastly, he that helpeth the
needie, defendeth his poore
neighbours, and in the fauour of his Countrey bestoweth his
life: will not God besides all these, place hym where he shall
liue for euer, especially, seeing he hath done all these enterprises
in faithe and for Christes sake?
Now in al ages, to recken
such as haue been right
Soueraine and victorious, what name got the worthie Scipio,
that withstood the rage of Haniball? What brute hath Cæsar,
for his most worthie Conquestes? What triumph of glory
doth sound in al mens eares, vpon the onely naming of
mightie Alexander, and his father King Philip? And now to
come home, what head can expresse the renowmed Henrie the
fifth King of Englande of that name, after the Conquest?
What witte can set out the wonderfull wisedome of Henrie
the seuenth, and his great foresight to espie mischiefe like to
ensue, and his politique deuises to
escape daungers, to subdue
Rebelles, and to maintaine peace?
¶ Of mouing
pittie, and stirring
men to shewe mercie.
LIkewise, we may exhorte men to
take pitie of the fatherlesse,
the widowe, & the oppressed innocent, if we set
before their eyes, the lamentable afflictions, the tyrannous
wrongs, and the miserable calamities, which these poore
wretches doe sustaine. For if flesh and bloud moue vs to loue
our children, our wiues, and our kinsfolke: much more should
the spirite of God, and Christes goodnesse towardes man, stirre
vs to loue our neighbours most intierly. These exhortations
the preachers of God may most aptly vse, when they open his
Gospel to the people, & haue iust cause to speake of such
matters.
¶ Of
Commending.
IN commending a man, wee vse
this report of his wit,
honestie, faithfull seruice, painfull labour, and carefull
nature to doe his Maisters will, or any such like, as in the
Epistles of Tullie, there are examples infinite.
¶ Of
Comforting.
NOw after all these, the weake
would be comforted, and
the sorowfull would be cherished, that their grief might
be asswaged, and the passions of man brought vnder the
obedience of reason. The vse hereof is great aswell in priuate
troubles, as in commen miseries. As in losse of goods, in
lacke of freendes, in sicknesse, in darth, and in death. In all
which losses, the wise vse so to comfort the weake, that they
giue them not iust cause euen at the first, to refuse all
comforte. And therefore, they vse two waies of cherishing
the troubled mindes. The one is, when we shewe that in
Comforting two |
waies vsed. |
some cases, and for some causes, either they should not
lament at all, or els be sorie very little: the other is when we
graunt that they haue iust cause to be sad, and therefore we
are sad also in their behalfe, and would remedie the mater if it
could be, and thus entering into felowship of sorowe, we
seeke by a little and litle to mitigate their greefe. For all
extreme heauinesse, and vehement sorowes can not abide
comfort, but rather seeke a mourner that would take parte
with them. Therefore, much warinesse ought to be vsed,
when we happen vpon such exceeding
sorowfulnesse, least we
rather purchase hatred, then asswage griefe.
Those harmes should be
moderatly borne, which must
needes happen to euery one, that haue chaunced to any one.
As Death, which spareth none, neither King nor Keisar, neither
poore nor riche. Therefore, to be impacient for the losse of
our frends, is to fall out with God, because he made vs men
and not Angels. But the Godly (I trust) will alwaies remit
the order of things, to the will of God, and force their
passions to obeie necessitie. When God lately visited this
Realme with the Sweating disease, and receiued the two
worthie Gentlemen, Henry Duke of Suffolk, and his brother
Lord Charles: I seeing my Ladies Grace, their mother,
taking their death most greeuously, could not otherwise for
the duetie which I then did, and euer shall owe vnto her, but
comfort her in that her heauinesse, the which vndoubtedly at
that tyme much weakened her bodie. And because it may
serue for an example of comfort, I haue bene bolde to set it
foorth, as it foloweth hereafter.
¶ An example
of comfort.
THough mine enterprise may bee
thought foolish, and my
doinges very slender, in busying my braine to teache the
expert, to giue counsaile to other, when I lacke it my selfe,
and whereas more neede were for me to be taught of other,
to take vpon mee to teache my betters, yet duetie binding me
to doe my best, and among a number, though I can doe least,
yet good will setting me forth with the formost: I can not
chuse but write what I am able, and speake what I can
possible, for the better comforting of your Grace, in this your
great heauinesse, and sore visitation sent from GOD, as
a warning to vs all. The Phisition then deserueth most
thankes, when he practiseth his knowledge in time of
necessitie, and then trauaileth most painefully, when hee feeleth
his Pacient to bee in most daunger. The souldiour at that
time, and at no time so much, is thought most trustie when
hee sheweth at a neede his faithfull heart, and in time of
extreme daunger doth vse, & bestow his most earnest labour.
In the wealth of this worlde, what valiaunt man can want
assistence? What mightie Prince can misse any helpe to
compasse his desire? Who lacketh men, that lacketh no
money? But when God striketh the
mightie with his strong
hande, and displaceth those that were highly placed: what
one man doeth once looke backe, for the better easement of
his deare brother, and Godly comforting his euen Christen,
in the chiefe of all his sorowe. All men commonly more
reioyce in the Sunne rising, then they doe in the Sunne
setting. The hope of lucre and expectation of priuate gaine,
maketh many one to beare out a countenaunce of fauour,
whose heart is inwardly fretted with dedly rancour. But
such frendes euen as prosperitie doeth get them, so aduersitie
doth trie them. God is the searcher of euery mans thought,
vnto whose iudgement, I deferre the assuraunce of my good
will.
And though I can doe little,
and therefore deserue as little
thanke, as I loke for praise (which is none at all) yet will
I endeuour earnestly at all times, as well for mine owne
discharge, to declare my duetie, as at this present to say
somewhat, for the better easement of your Grace in this your
heauines. The passions of the minde haue diuers effectes,
and therefore worke straungely, according to their properties.
For, like as ioye comforteth the heart, nourisheth bloud, and
quickeneth the whole bodie: So heauinesse and care hinder
digestion, ingender euill humours, waste the principall partes,
and with time consume the whole bodie. For the better
knowledge therof, & for a liuely sight of the same, we
neede not to seeke farre for any example, but euen to come
straight vnto your Grase, whose bodie as I vnderstand
credibly, and partly see my selfe, is sore appaired within
short time, your minde so troubled, and your hart so heauie,
that you hate in a maner all light, you like not the sight of
any thing, that might bee your comfort, but altogether
striken in a dumpe, you seeke to be solitarie, detesting all ioy,
and delyting in sorrowe, wish with harte (if it were Gods
will) to make your last ende. In which your heauinesse, as
I desire to be a comforter of your Grace, so I can not blame
your naturall sorowe, if that now after declaration of the
same, you would moderate all your griefe hereafter, and call
backe your pensiuenesse, to the prescript order of reason.
And first, for the better
remedie of euery disease, and
troubled passions, it is best to knowe the principall cause and
chiefe occasion of the same. Your
Grace had two sonnes,
how noble, howe wittie, how learned, and how Godly, many
thousands better knowe it, then any one is able well to tell
it. GOD at his pleasure hath taken them both to his mercie,
and placed them with him, which were surely ouer good to
tarie here with vs. They both died as your Grace knoweth
very yong, which by course of Nature and by mans estimation,
might haue liued much longer. They both were together in
one house, lodged in two seuerall Chambers, and almost at
one time both sickened, and both departed. They died both
Dukes, both well learned, both wise, and both right Godly.
They both gaue straunge tokens of death to come. The
Elder sitting at Supper and very merie, sayd sodainly to that
right honest Matrone, and Godly Gentlewoman, that most
faithfull and long assured seruaunt of yours, whose life God
graunt long to continue: O Lorde, where shall we suppe to
morowe at night, whereupon she being troubled, and yet
saying comfortably, I trust my Lorde, either here, or els
where at some of your freends houses: Nay (quoth he) we
shal neuer Suppe together againe in this worlde be you well
assured, and with that, seeing the Gentlewoman discomfited,
turned it vnto mirth, and passed the rest of his Supper with
much ioye, and the same night after twelue of the Clocke,
being the fowerteene of Iulie sickned, and so was taken the
next morning, about seauen of the clocke, to the mercie of
God, in the yere of our Lorde, a thousande fiue hundred fiftie
and one. When the eldest was gone, the younger would not
tarie, but tolde before (hauing no knowledge thereof by any
bodie liuing) of his brothers death, to the greate wondering
of all that were there, declaring what it was to lose so deare
a freend, but comforting himselfe in that passion, said: well,
my brother is gone, but it maketh no matter for I will goe
straight after him, and so did within the space of halfe an
hower, as your Grace can best tell which was there present.
Nowe I renewe these wordes to your Graces knowledge, that
you might the more stedfastly consider their time, to be then
appointed of GOD, to forsake this euill worlde, and to liue
with Abraham, Isaac, and Iacob in the kingdome of Heauen.
But wherefore did GOD take two such awaie, and at that
time? Surely, to tell the principall cause, wee may by all
The cause why God |
taketh away the |
most worthiest. |
likenesse affirme, that they were taken away from vs for our
wretched sinnes, and most vile naughtinesse of life, that
thereby wee being warned, might be as ready for God, as
they now presently were, and amend our liues in time, whom
God will call, what time wee know not. Then as I can see,
we haue small cause to lament the lacke of them, which are in
such blessed state, but rather to amend our owne liuing, to
forthinke vs of our offences, and to wish of God to purge our
hearts from all filthines and vngodly dealing, that we may be
(as they now be) blessed with God for euer. Notwithstanding,
the workes of God are vnsearchable, without the compasse of
mans braine, precisely to comprehend the very cause, sauing
that this perswasion ought surely to bee grounded in vs,
euermore to thinke that God is offended with sinne, and that
hee punisheth offences, to the third and fowerth generation,
of all them that breake his commaundements, beeing iust in all
his workes, and doing all things for the best. And therefore,
when God plagueth in such sorte, I would wish that our faith
might alwaies be staied, vpon the admiration of Gods glorie
through out all his doings, in whom is none euill, neither yet
was there euer any guile found. And I doubt not, but your
Grace is thus affected, and vnfainedly confessing your owne
offences, taketh this scourge to come from God, as a iust
punishment of sinne for the amendement, not onely of your
owne selfe, but also for the amendement of al other in
generall. The lamentable voyce of the poore (which is the
mouth of God) throughout the whole realme declares full well,
the wickednesse of this life, and shewes plainly that this euill
is more generally felt, then any man is able by worde, or by
writing at full to set forth.
When God therefore, that is
Lorde, not onely of the riche
but also of the poore, seeth his ground spoyled from the
wholsome profite of many, to the vaine pleasure of a fewe,
and the yearth made priuate, to suffice the lust of vnsaciable
couetousnesse, and that those which be his true members, can
not liue for the intollerable oppression, the sore enhaunsing,
and the most wicked grasing of those throughout the whole
Realme, which otherwise might well liue with the onely value
and somme of their landes, and yerely reuenues: he striketh
in his anger the innocentes and tender younglings to plague
vs with the lacke of them, whose
innocencie, and Godlinesse
of life, might haue been a iust example for vs, to amende our
most euill doings. In which wonderfull worke of GOD,
when hee receiued these two most noble impes, and his
children elected to the euerlasting Kingdome, I can not but
magnifie his most glorious name, from time to time, that
hath so graciously preserued these two worthy Gentlemen,
from the daunger of further euill, and most vile wretchednesse
most like right shortly to ensue, except we all repent, and
forethinke vs of our former euill liuing. And yet I speake
not this as though I knewe any crime to bee more in you,
then in any other: But I tel it to the shame of al those
vniuersally within this Realme, that are giltie of such offences,
whose inward consciences condemne their owne doings, and
their open deedes beare witnesse against their euill nature.
For it is not one house that shall feele the fall of these two
Princes, neither hath God taken them for one priuate persons
offences: but for the wickednesse of the whole Realme, which
is like to feele the smarte, except God be mercifull vnto vs.
But now that they be gone,
though the flesh be fraile,
weake, and tender, and must needes smart, being wounded or
cut: yet I doubt not but your grace, lacking two such
portions of your owne flesh, and hauing them (as a man
would say) cut away from your owne body, will suffer the
smart with a good stomacke, and remember that sorowe is but
an euill remedy to heale a sore. For if your hand were
Where necessitie |
ruleth, sorowe is |
needelesse. |
detrenched, or your bodie maymed with some sodaine stroke,
what profite were it for you to weepe vpon your wound, and
when the harme is done, to lament stil the sore? Seing that
with weeping it will not be lesse, & may yet through weeping
ful sone be made more. For the sore is increased, when
sorowe is added, and the paine is made double, which before
was but single. A constaunt Christian should beare all
miserie, and with pacience abide the force of necessitie,
shewing with sufferaunce the strength of his faith, and
especially when the change is from euill to good, from woe to
weale, what folly is it to sorrowe that, for the which they
ioye that are departed? They haue taken now their rest, that
liued here in trauaile: They haue forsaken their bodies,
wherin they were bound to receiue the spirit, whereby they
are free. They haue chosen for
sicknesse, health: for earth,
heauen: for life transitorie, life immortall: and for man,
God: then the which, what can they haue more? Or how is
it possible they can be better? Vndoubtedly if euer they were
happie, they are now most happie: if euer they were well,
they are now in best case, being deliuered from this present
euill worlde, and exempted from Sathan, to liue for euer with
Christe our Sauiour.
Then what meane wee, that
not onely lament the want of
other, but also desire to tarie here our selues, hoping for
a short vaine, and therewith a painefull pleasure, and refusing
to enioye that continuall perfect, and heauenly enheritaunce,
the which so sone shall happen vnto us, as Nature dissolueth
this earthly body. Trueth it is, we are more fleshly then
spirituall, soner feeling the ache of our body, then the greefe
of our soule: more studious with care to be healthfull in
carkasse, then seeking with praier, to bee pure in spirite.
And therefore, if our freendes bee stained with sinne, we doe not
or we will not espie their sore, we coumpt them faultlesse, when
they are most wicked, neither seking the redresse of their euill
doing, nor yet once amending the faultes of our owne liuing.
But when our freend
departeth this world, and then
forsaketh vs, when sinne forsaketh him: we begin to shewe
our fleshly natures, wee weepe and we waile, and with long
sorrowe without discretion, declare our want of Gods grace,
and all goodnesse. Whereas we see that as some be borne,
The folly of such |
as sorrow the want |
of their freendes. |
some doe die also, men, women and children, and not one
hower certaine to vs of all our life, yet we neuer mourne, we
neuer weepe, neither marking the death of such as we knowe,
nor regarding the euill life of those whom we loue. But
when such depart as were either nighest of our kinred, or els
most our freendes, we then lament without all comfort, not
the sinnes of their soules, but the chaunge of their bodies,
leauing to doe that which we should, and doing that only
which we should not doe at all. Wherein not onely wee
declare much want of faith, but also wee shewe greate lacke of
witte. For as the other are gone before, either to heauen or
els to Hell: so shall our freends and kinsfolke folowe after.
We are all made of one mettall, and ordeined to dye so many
as liue. Therefore what folly is it in vs, or rather what
fleshly madnesse immoderately to
wayle their death, whom
GOD hath ordeined to make their ende, except we lament
the lacke of our owne liuing? For euen as well wee might at
their first birthe bewaile their natiuitie, considering they must
needes die, because they are borne to liue. And whatsoeuer
hath a beginning, the same hath also an ending, and the ende
is not at our will, which desire continuaunce of life, but at
his will which gaue the beginning of life. Now then seeing
GOD hath ordeined all to dye, according to his appointed
will, what meane they that would haue theirs to liue? Shall
God alter his first purpose, for the onely satisfying of our
foolish pleasure? And where GOD hath minded that the whole
worlde shall decaie, shall any man desire that any one house
may stande? In my minde, there can be no greater comfort to
any one liuing for the lacke of his freend, then to thinke that
this happened to him, which all other either haue felt, or els
shall feele hereafter: And that God the rather made Death
common to all, that the vniuersall Plague and egalnesse to all,
might abate the fiercenesse of death, and comfort vs in the
crueltie of the same, considering no one man hath an ende, but
that all shall haue the like, and die we must euery mothers
sonne of vs at one time or other. But you will say: my
children might haue liued longer, they died young. Sure it
Euill to liue |
among the euill. |
is by mans estimation they might haue liued longer, but had
it bene best for them thinke you, to haue continued still in
this wretched worlde, where Vice beareth rule, and Vertue is
subdued, where GOD is neglected, his lawes not obserued,
his word abused, and his Prophetes that preach the iudgement
of God, almost euery where contemned? If your children
were a liue, and by the aduise of some wicked person, were
brought to a Brothell house, where entising Harlots liued, and
so were in daunger to commit that foule sinne of whoredome,
and so led from one wickednesse to another: I am assured,
your grace would call them backe with labour, and would
with exhortations induce them to the feare of God, and vtter
detestation of all sinne, as you haue ful often heretofore done,
rather fearing euil to come, then knowing any open fault to
be in either of them. Now then seeing God hath done the
same for you himselfe, that you would haue done for them if
they had liued, that is, in deliuering them both from this
present euill worlde, which I coumpt
none other then
a Brothell house, and a life of all naughtinesse: you ought to
thanke God highly, that he hath taken awaie your two sonnes,
euen in their youth, being innocentes both for their liuing,
and of such expectation for their towardnesse, that almost it
were not possible for them hereafter, to satisfie the hope in
their age, which al men presently had conceiued of their
youth. It is thought and in deede it is no lesse then a great
point of happinesse, to dye happely. Now, when could your
To die happely, |
is great happinesse. |
two noble Gentlemen haue died better, then when they were
at the best, most Godly in many things, offending in fewe,
beloued of the honest, and hated of none (if euer they were
hated) but of such as hate the best. As in deede, noble
vertue neuer wanted cankard enuie to followe her. And
considering that this life is so wretched, that the best are euer
most hated, and the vilest alwaies most esteemed, and your
two Sonnes of the other side, being in that state of honestie,
and trained in that path of godlinesse (as I am able to be
a liuely witnesse, none hath bene like these many yeres, or at
the least, none better brought vp) what thinke you of God,
did he enuie them, or els did he prouidently forsee vnto them
both, when he tooke them both from vs. Assuredly, whom
God loueth best, those he taketh sonest, according to the saying
of Salomon: The righteous man (meaning Enoch, and other
the chosen of God) is sodainly taken away, to the intent, that
wickednesse should not alter his vnderstanding, and that
hypocrisie should not begile his soule. For the craftie
bewitching of lyes, make good things darke: the vnstedfastnesse
also, and wickednesse of volupteous desire, turne aside
the vnderstanding of the simple. And though the righteous
was sone gone, yet fulfilled he much time, for his soule pleased
God, and therefore hasted he to take him awaie from among the
Psal. lxxxiiij. |
Psalm .xlij. |
wicked. Yea, the good men of God in all ages, haue euer
had an earnest desire to be dissolued. My soule (quoth
Dauid) hath an earnest desire to enter into the courtes of the
Lord. Yea, like as the Hart desireth the water brookes, so
longeth my soule after thee O God. My soule is a thirst for
God: yea, euen for the liuing God, when shall I come to
appeare before the presence of God? Paule & the Apostles
wished and longed for the day of the Lord, & thought euery
day a thousand yere, till their
soules were parted from their
bodies. Then what should we waile them, which are in that
place where we al should wish to be, and seeke so to liue, that
we might be ready, when it shall please God of his goodnesse
to cal vs to his mercy. Let us be sicke for our own sinnes
that liue here on earth, and reioyce in their most happie
passage, that are gone to heauen. Thei haue not left vs, but
Life, the right |
way to death. |
Death purchaseth |
rest. |
gone before vs to inherite with Christ, their kingdom
prepared. And what should this greue your grace that thei
are gone before, considering our whole life is nothing els but
the right waie to death. Should it trouble any one, yt his
frend is come to his iourneis end? Our life is nothing els,
but a continuall trauaile, & death obtaineth rest after all our
labor. Among men that trauaile by the hye waie, he is best
at ease (in my minde) that sonest cometh to his iourneis end.
Therefore, if your grace loued your children (as I am well
assured you did) you must reioyce in their rest, and giue God
hartie thanks, that they are come so sone to their iourneis
ende. Mary, if it were so that man might escape the daunger
of death, & liue euer, it were an other matter: but because
Death more frendly, |
the soner it commeth. |
we must al die, either first or last, & nothing so sure in this
life, as we are al sure to die at length, & nothing more
vncertaine vnto man, then the certaine time of euery mans
latter time, what forceth when we die, either this daie or
to morowe, either this yere or the next, sauing that I thinke
them most happie that dye sonest, and Death frendly to none
so much, as to them whom she taketh sonest. At the time of
an Execution done, for greuous offences, what mattereth who
die first, when a dosen are condemned together by a Lawe,
considering they must all die one and other. I saie still,
happie are they that are sonest ridde out of this world, and
the soner gone, the soner blessed. The Thracians lament
Children by weeping, |
declare our wo. |
greatly at the birth of their children, and reioyce much at the
buriall of their bodies, being well assured that this world is
nothing els but miserie, and the world to come ioye for euer.
Nowe againe the childe now borne, partly declareth the state
of this life, who beginneth his time with wayling, and first
sheweth teares, before he can iudge the cause of his woe. If
we beleeue the promises of God, if wee hope for the generall
resurrection, and constantly affirme that God is iust in all his
workes: we can not but ioyfully say
with the iust man Iob.
The Lorde gaue them, the Lorde hath taken them againe,
as it pleased God so may it be, and blessed be the name of the
Lord for now & euer. God dealeth wrongfully with no man,
but extendeth his mercie most plentifully ouer all mankind.
God gaue you two children, as the like I haue not knowden,
happie are you most gracious Ladie that euer you bare them.
God lent you them two for a time, and tooke them two againe
at his time, you haue no wrong done you, that he hath taken
them: but you haue receiued a wonderfull benefite that euer
you had them. He is very vniust that boroweth and will not
paie againe but at his pleasure. He forgetteth much his
Lent goods must |
restored at the |
owners will. |
duetie, that boroweth a Iewell of the Kings Maiestie, and will
not restore it with good will, when it shall please his Grace to
cal for it. He is vnworthie hereafter to borowe, that will
rather grudge because he hath it no longer, then once giue
thanks because he hath had the vse of it so long. He is ouer
couetous, that coumpteth not gainefull the time of his borowing:
but iudgeth it losse to restore things againe. He is vnthankfull
that thinkes hee hath wrong done, when his pleasure is
shortned, and takes the ende of his delight to be extreme
euill. He loseth the greatest part of his ioye in this worlde,
that thinketh there is no pleasure but of thinges present: that
can not comfort himselfe with pleasure past, and iudge them
to be most assured, considering the memorie of them once
had, can neuer decaie. His ioyes bee ouer straight, that bee
comprehended within the compasse of his sight, and thinketh
nothing comfortable, but that which is euer before his eyes.
All pleasure, which man hath in this worlde, is very shorte,
and sone goeth it waie, the remembrance lasteth euer and
is much more assured, then is the presence or liuely sight of
any thing. And thus your Grace may euer reioyce, that you
had two such, which liued so verteously, and dyed so Godly,
and though their bodies bee absent from your sight, yet the
remembraunce of their vertues, shall neuer decaie from your
mind. God lendeth life to all, and lendeth at his pleasure
for a time. To this man he graunteth a long life, to this
a short space, to some one, a daie, to some a yere, to some
a moneth. Now, when GOD taketh, what man should be
offended, considering he that gaue freely, may boldly take his
owne when he will, and doe no man
wrong. The Kings
Maiestie giueth one .x. li. an other .xl. li. an other .lx. li.
shal he be greeued that receiued but, x. li. and not rather
giue thankes, that he receiued so much? Is that man happier
that dieth in the latter ende of the moneth, then hee is that
dyed in the beginning of the same moneth? Doeth distaunce
of time, and long tarying from God, make men more happie
when they come to God? By space of passage we differ much,
and one liueth longer than an other, but by death at the last
we all are matched, and none the happier that liueth the
longer: but rather most happie is he that died the sonest,
and departed best in the faith of Christ. Thinke therefore
your selfe most happie, that you had two such, and giue God
hartie thankes that it pleased him so soone to take two such.
Necessitie is lawlesse, and that which is by God appointed, no
man can alter. Reioyce we, or weepe we, dye we shall, how
soone no man can tell. Yea, we are all our life time warned
before, that death is at hande, and that when we goe to bed,
we are not assured to rise the next day in the morning, no,
not to liue one hower longer. And yet to see our folly, we
would assigne God his tyme, according to our sacietie, and
not content our selues with his doings, according to his
appointment. And euer wee saie when any die yong, he
might haue liued longer, it was pitie he died so sone. As
though forsoth, he were not better with God, then he can be
with man. Therefore, whereas for a time your Grace much
bewailed their lacke, not onely absenting your selfe from all
companie, but also refusing all kind of comforte, almost dead
with heauinesse, your bodie being so worne with sorrowe, that
the long continuaunce of the same, is much like to shorten
your daies: I will desire your Grace for Gods loue, to referre
your wil to God's will, and whereas hetherto nature hath
taught you, to weepe the lacke of your naturall children, let
reason teach you hereafter to wype awaie the teares, and let
not phantasie encrease that, which nature hath commaunded
moderatly to vse. To be sory for the lack of our dearest,
we are taught by nature, to be ouercome with sorow, it
commeth of our owne fonde opinion, and great folly it is,
with natural sorowe to encrease al sorowe, and with a little
sicknesse, to purchase readie death. The sorowes of brute
beastes are sharpe, and yet they are
but short. The Cowe
lacking her Caulf, leaueth lowing within three or fower daies
at the farthest. Birds of the Aire, perceyuing their young
The nature of |
brute beastes. |
ones taken from their neast, chitter for a while in Trees
there about, and straight after they flye abroade and make no
more adoe. The Dow lacking her Faune: the Hind her
Calfe, braie no longer time after their losse, but seing their
lacke to be without remedy, they cease their sorow within
short space. Man onely among all other, ceaseth not to
fauour his sorowe, and lamenteth not onely so much as
nature willeth him, but also so much as his owne affection
moueth him. And yet all folke doe not so, but such as are
subiect to passions, and furthest from fortitude of mind, as
women commonly rather then men, rude people rather then
Immoderat sorowe, |
not naturall. |
Godly folke: the vnlearned soner then the learned, foolish
folke soner then wise men, children, rather then yong men.
Whereupon we may well gather, that immoderate sorowe, is
not naturall (for that which is naturall, is euer like in all)
but through follie mainteined, encreased by weakenesse, and for
lack of reason made altogether intollerable. Then I doubt
not, but your Grace wil rather ende your sorowe by reason:
then that sorowe should ende you through follie, and whereas
by nature, you are a weake woman in bodie, you will shewe
your selfe by reason, a strong man in heart: rather endyng
your greefe by Godly aduertisements, and by the iust consideration
of Gods wonderfull doings: then that time and space,
Time, a remedie for |
fooles to take awaie |
their sorowe. Math. vi. |
Iohn. v. |
should weare awaie your sorrowes, which in deede suffer none,
continually to abide in any one, but rather rid them of life,
or els ease them of griefe. The foole, the vngodly, the weake
harted haue this remedie, your medicen must be more heauenly,
if you doe (as you professe) referre al to Gods pleasure, and
say in your praier. Thy will be done in earth as it is in
heauen. Those whom God loueth, those he chasteneth, and
happie is that bodie, whom God scourgeth for his amendment.
The man that dyeth in the faieth of Christ is blessed, and the
chastened seruaunt if he doe repent and amend his life, shalbe
blessed. Wee knowe not what we doe when we bewaile the
death of our dearest, for in death is altogether al happinesse,
and before death not one is happie. The miseries in this
world declare small felicitie to be in the same. Therefore,
many men being ouerwhelmed with much
woe and wretched
wickednesse, haue wished and praied to God for an ende of
The greate miserie of |
this worlde, makes |
wearinesse of life. |
this life, and thought this worlde to be a let, to the heauenly
perfection, the which blisse all they shall attaine hereafter that
hope well here, and with a liuely faith declare their assuraunce.
Your Graces two sonnes in their life were so Godly, that their
death was their aduauntage: for, by death they liued, because
in life thei were dead. They died in faith, not wearie of this
world, nor wishing for death, as ouer loden with sinne: but
paciently taking the crosse departed with ioy. At whose
dying, your grace may learne an example of pacience and all
thankes giuing, that God of his goodnesse, hath so graciously
taken these your two children to his fauourable mercie.
God punished partly to trie your constancie, wherein I wish
that your grace may now bee as well willing to forsake them,
Impacience without |
comfort. |
as euer you were willing to haue them. But such is the
infirmitie of our flesh, that we hate good comfort in wordes,
when that cause of our comfort in deede (as we take it) is
gone. And me thinkes I heare you crie notwithstanding al
my words: alacke my children are gone. But what though
they are gone? God hath called, and nature hath obeyed.
Yea, you crie still my children are dead: Marie therefore they
liued, and blessed is their ende whose life is so Godly. Woe
worth they are dead they are ded. It is no new thing, thei
are neither the first that died, not yet the last that shall die.
Many went before, and all shal folow after. They liued
together, they loued together, & now they are made their ende
both together. Alas they died that were the fruite of myne
owne body, leauing me comfortles, vnhappie woman that
Trees, not cursed, |
because Apples fall |
from them. |
I am. You doe well, to call them the fruite of your bodie,
and yet you nothing the more vnhappie neither. For is the
tree vnhappie, from which the Apples fall? Or is the earth
accursed, that bringeth forth greene grasse, which hereafter
notwithstanding doth wither. Death taketh no order of yeres,
but when the time is appointed, be it earely or late, daie or
night, away we must. But I praie you, what loue hath your
Grace. They dyed, that shoulde haue died, yea, they that
could liue no longer. But you wished them longer life. Yea,
[b]ut God made you no such promise, and meete it were not,
that he should be led by you, but you rather should bee led by
him. Your children died and that
right Godly, what would
you haue more? All good mothers desire that their children
may dye Gods seruauntes, the which your Grace hath most
assuredly obtained. Now againe, mans nature altereth, and
hardly tarieth vertue long in one place, without much circumspection,
and youth may sone be corrupted. But you will say.
These were good and Godly brought vp, and therefore, most
like to proue Godly hereafter if they had liued still. Well,
though such things perhaps had not chaunced, yet such things
might haue chaunced, and although they happen not to al,
yet do they hap to many: and though they had not chaunced
to your children, yet we knew not that before: and more
wisedome it had bene, to feare the worst with good aduisement,
then euer to hope, and looke still for the best, without
all mistrusting. For such is the nature of man and his corrupt
race, that euermore the one followeth soner then the other. Commodus
was a vertuous childe, and had good bringing
vp,
and yet he died a most wicked man. Nero wanted no good
counsaile, and such a Master he had, as neuer any had the
better, and yet what one aliue was worse then he? But now
death hath assured your Grace, that you may warrant your
selfe of their godly ende, whereas if God had spared them
life, things might haue chaunced otherwise. In wishing longer
life, we wish often times longer woe, longer trouble, longer
folly in this world, and weigh all things well, you shall
perceiue we haue small ioye, to wish longer life. This
imagination of longer life, when the life standeth not by the
number of yeres, but by the appointed will of God, maketh
our folly so much to appeare, and our teares so continually
to fall from our cheekes. For if we thought (as wee should
doe in deed) that euery day rising, may be the end of euery
man liuing, and that there is no difference with GOD,
betwixt one day and an hundreth yeares, wee might beare all
sorrowes a great deale the better. Therefore it were most
wisedome for vs all, and a great part of perfection, to make
euery day an euen reckening of our life, and talke so with
God euery howre, that we may be of euen boord with him,
through fulnesse of faith, and readie to goe the next howre
following at his commaundement, and to take alwaies his
sending in good part. The Lorde is at hand. We knowe
not when he will come (at midnight,
at Cock crowe, or at
noone daies) to take either vs, or any of ours. Therfore, the
rather that we may be armed, let vs follow the examples of
other godly men, and lay their doings before your eyes.
And among al other, I know none so meete for your Graces
comfort, as the wise & godly behauour of good King Dauid.
Who when he was enformed that his sonne was sicke, praied
to God hartely for his amendement, wept, fasted, and with
much lamentation declared great heauinesse. But when word
came of his sonnes departure, hee left his mourning, he called
for water, and willed meate to be set before him, that he
might eate. Whereupon, when his men marueiled why he
did so, considering he tooke it so greeuously before, when his
child was but sicke, and now being dead tooke no thought
at all, he made this answere vnto them: so long as my childe
liued I fasted, and watered my plants for my yong boye, and
I saied to my self, who can tel but that God perhappes will
giue me him, and that my childe shall liue: but now seing he
is dead, to what ende should I fast? Can I call him againe
any more? Nay, I shall rather goe vnto him, he shall neuer
come againe vnto me. And with that Dauid comforted his
wife Bethsabe, the which example, as I trust your Grace hath
read for your comfort, so I hope you will also followe it for
your health, and be as strong in pacience as euer Dauid was.
The historie it selfe shal much delight your grace, being read
as it lieth in the booke, better then my bare touching of it
can doe a great deale. The which I doubt not, but your
Grace will often reade and comfort your self, as Dauid did
his sorrowfull wife. Iob losing his children and all that he
had, forgat not to praise God in his extreame pouretie.
Tobias lacking his eye sight, in spirit praised God, and
with
open mouth confessed his holy name, to be magnified throughout
the whole earth. Paule the Apostle of God, reproueth
them as worthie blame, which mourne & lament the losse of
their dearest. I would not brethren (quoth he) that you should
bee ignoraunt concerning them which be fallen on sleepe,
that you sorrowe not as other doe, which haue no hope. If
we beleeue that Iesus dyed and rose again, euen so they also
which sleep by Iesus, wil God bring againe with him. Then
your grace either with leauing sorowe, must shewe your self
faithfull, or els with yeelding to
your woe, declare your self
to be without hope. But I trust your grace being planted in
Christ, will shewe with sufferance the fruite of your faith, and
comfort your self with the wordes of Christ, I am the
resurrection & the life, he that beleueth on me, yea, though he
were dead, yet should hee liue, and whosoeuer liueth and
beleeueth in me shall neuer dye. We reade of those that
had no knowledge of God, and yet they bare in good worth
the disease of their children. Anaxagoras hearing tell, that
his sonne was dead: no maruel (quoth he) I knowe well
I begot a mortall bodie. Pericles chief ruler of Athens,
hearing tel that his two sonnes being of wonderfull towardnesse,
within fower daies were both dead, neuer greatly
changed countenance for the matter, that any one could
perceiue, nor yet forbare to goe abroade, but according to his
wonted custome, did his duetie in the Counsaile house in
debating matters of weight, concerning the state of the
common peoples weale. But because your grace is a woman,
I will shewe you an example of a noble woman, in whom
appered wonderfull pacience. Cornelia a worthy Lady in Rome,
being comforted for the losse of her two children Tiberius, and
Caius Gracchus, both valiaunt
Gentlemen, although
both not the most honest men, which died not in
their beds, but violently were slaine in ciuill battaile, their
bodies lying naked and vnburied, when one among other said:
oh vnhappie woman, that euer thou shouldest see this day.
Nay (quoth she) I will neuer thinke my selfe otherwise then
most happie, that euer I brought forth these two Gracchions.
If this noble Ladie could thinke her self happie, being mother
to these two valiaunt Gentlemen, and yet both Rebelles, &
therefore iustly slaine: how much more may your Grace
thinke your self most happie, that euer you brought forth two
such Brandons, not onely by naturall birth, but also by most
godly education in such sort, that the like two haue not beene
for their towardnesse vniuersally. Whose death, the generall
voyce of all men, declares how much it was lamented. So
that, whereas you might euer haue feared some daungerous
end, now are you assured, that thei both made a most godly
ende, the which thing is the full perfection of a Christian
life. I read of one Bibulus, that hearing of his two children
to die in one day, lamented the lack
of them both for that
one day, and mourned no more. And what could a man doe
lesse, then for two children to lament but one day, and yet
in my minde he lamented enough, and euen so much as was
reason for him to doe: whose doinges if al Christians would
followe, in my iudgement they should not onely fulfill Natures
rule, but also please God highly. Horatius Puluillus being high
Priest at Roome, when he was occupied about the dedication
of the Temple, to the great God Iupiter, in the Capitolie,
holding a post in his hand, & heard as he was vttering the
solemne wordes, that his sonne was dead euen at the same
present: he did neuer plucke his hand from the post, least he
should trouble such a solemnitie, neither yet turned his
countenaunce from that publique Religion, to his priuate
sorowe, least he should seeme rather to doe the office of
a Father, then the duetie of an high Minister. Paulus Emilius,
after his most noble victorie had of King Perse, desired of
God that after such a triumph, there were any harme like to
happen to the Romaines, the same might fall vpon his owne
house.
Whereupon, when God had taken his two children from him,
immediatly after he thanked God, for graunting him his
bound. For in so doing he was a meane, that the people
rather lamented Paulus Emilius lacke, then that Paulus
or any
bewailed any misfortune that the Romaines had. Examples be
Quintus Martius. |
Iulius Cæsar. |
Tiberius Cæsar. |
innumerable of those which vsed like moderation, in subduing
their affections, as Zenophon, Quintus Martius, Iulius Cæsar,
Tiberius Cæsar, Emperors both of Roome.
But what seeke
I for misfortunate men (if any such be misfortunate) seeing
it is an harder matter and a greater peece of worke to finde out
happie men. Let vs looke round about, euen at home, and
we shall finde enough subiect to this misfortune: for who
liueth that hath not lost? Therfore I would wish your grace
euen now, to come in againe with God, and although he bee
angrie, yet shewe you your selfe most obedient to his will,
considering he is Lord ouer Kinges, Emperours, and ouer all
that bee, both in heauen and in earth, and spareth none whom
he listeth to take, and no doubt he will take all at the last.
His Darte goeth dayly, neither is any Dart cast in vaine,
which is sent amongst a whole Armie, standing thicke
together. Neither can you iustly lament that they liued no
longer, for they liued long enough,
that haue liued well
enough. You must measure your children by their vertues,
not by their yeares. For (as the Wiseman saith) a mans
wisedome is the greye heares, and an vndefiled life is the
old age. Happie is that mother that hath had godlie children,
and not she that hath had long liuing children. For, if
felicitie should stand by length of time, some Tree were more
happie then any man, for it liueth longer, and so like wise
brute beastes, as the Stagge, who liueth (as Plinie doth say)
Trees liue longer |
then men. |
The Stag how long |
he liueth. |
Man what he is |
concerning his |
bodie. |
two hundred yeres and more. If wee would but consider
what man is, wee should haue small hope to liue, and little
cause to put any great assuraunce in this life. Let vs see him
what he is: Is his bodie any thing els, but a lumpe of earth,
made together in such forme as we doe see? A fraile vessel,
a weake carion subiect to miserie, cast doune with euery
light disease, a man to day, to morowe none. A flowre that
this day is fresh, to morrowe withereth. Good Lord doe wee
not see, that euen those thinges which nourish vs, doe rotte
and dye, as hearbes, birds, beastes, water, and al other,
without the which we cannot liue. And how can we liue
euer, that are sustained with dead thinges? Therefore, when
any one doth dye, why doe wee not thinke, that this may
chaunce to euery one, which now hath chaunced to any one.
We bee now as those that stand in battaile ray. Not one
man is sure of himself before an other, but al are in daunger
in like maner to death. That your children dyed before
other that were of riper yeres, we may iudge that their
ripenesse for vertue, and al other gifts of nature were brought
euen to perfection, whereby Death the soner approached, for
nothing long lasteth that is sone excellent. God gaue your
grace two most excellent children: God neuer giueth for any
long time, those that bee right excellent. Their natures
were heauenly, and therefore more meet for God then man.
Ripe things last |
not long. |
Among fruite we see some apples are sone ripe, and fal from
the Tree in the middest of Sommer, other be still greene and
tary til Winter, and hereupon are commonly called Winter
fruite: euen so it is with man, some die yong some die old,
and some die in their midle age. Your sonnes were euen
two such alreadie, as some hereafter may be with long
continuaunce of time. They had that in their youth for the
gifts of nature, which all men would
require of them both
scarcely in their age. Therefore being both now ripe, they
were most readie for God. There was a childe in Roome of
a mans quantitie, for face, legges, and other parts of the
body, whereupon wise men iudged he would not be long
liuing. How could your grace thinke, that when you saw
auncient wisedome in the one, and most pragnant wit in the
other, marueilous sobrietie in the elder, & most laudable
gentlenesse in the yonger, them both most studious in learning,
most forward in al feates, aswel of the body as of the mind,
being two such and so excellent, that they were like long
to continue with you. God neuer suffereth such excellent
and rare Iewels long to inherite the earth. Whatsoeuer is
nie perfection, the same is most nye falling. Vertue being
once absolute, cannot long be seene with these our fleshly
eyes, neither can that tary the latter ende with other, that
was ripe it selfe first of al, and before other. Fire goeth out
the soner, the clearer that it burneth: & that light lasteth
longest, that is made of most course matter. In greene wood
we may see, that where as the fuell is not most apt for burning,
yet the fire lasteth longer, then if it were nourished with
like quantitie of drye wood. Euen so in the nature of man,
the minde being ripe, the body decaieth straight, and life
goeth away being once brought to perfection. Neither can
there be any greater token of short life, then full ripenesse of
natural wit: the which is to the body, as the heate of the
Sunne is to things earthly. Therefore iudge right honorable
Ladie, that euen now they both died, when they both were
most readie for God, neither thinke that they died ouer sone
because they liued no longer. They died both Gods seruaunts,
and therefore they dyed well and in good time. God hath
set their time, and taken them at his time, blessed children
as they bee, to reigne with him in the kingdome of his
Father, prepared for them from the beginning. Vnto whose
will I wish, and I trust your Grace doth wholie referre your
will, thanking him as hartely for that he hath taken them, as
you euer thanked him for that he euer lent you them. I knowe
the wicked wordes of some vngodly folke haue much disquieted
your grace, notwithstanding, GOD being Iudge of
your naturall loue towards your children, and al your faithful
friends and seruaunts, bearing
earnest witnesse with your
Grace of the same: their vngodly talke the more lightly it is to
be esteemed, the more vngodly that it is. Nay, your grace
may reioyce rather, that whereas you haue done well, you
here euill, according to the words of Christ. Blessed are you
when men speake all euill thinges against you. And againe,
consider GOD is not led by the reporte of men, to iudge his
creatures, but perswaded by the true knowledge of euery
mans conscience to take them for his seruaunts, and furthermore,
the harme is theirs which speake so lewdly, and the
blisse theirs which beare it so paciently. For looke what
measure they vse to other, with the same they shall bee
measured againe. And as they iudge, so shall they be iudged.
Be your Grace therefore strong in aduersitie, and pray for
them that speake amisse of you, rendring good for euill, and
with charitable dealing, shewe your selfe long suffering, so
shal you heape coales on their heads. The boystrous Sea,
trieth the good Mariner, and sharpe vexation declareth the
Pacience praise |
worthy in |
aduersitie. |
true Christian. Where battaile hath not bene before, there
was neuer any victorie obtained. You then beeing thus
assailed, shewe your selfe rather stoute to withstand, then
weake to giue ouer: rather cleauing to good, then yeelding to
euill. For if God be with you, what forceth who be against
you. For when all friends faile, God neuer faileth them
that put their trust in him, and with an vnfained heart call to
him for grace. Thus doing, I assure your Grace God will be
pleased, and the godly will much praise your wisedome,
though the world full wickedly say their pleasure. I pray
God your grace may please the godlie, and with your
vertuous behauiour in this your widowhood, winne their commendation
to the glorie of God, the reioysing of your friends,
and the comfort of your soule. Amen.
Thus, the rather to make
precepts plaine, I haue added
examples at large, both for counsaile giuing and for comforting.
And most needfull it were in such kinde of Orations,
to bee most occupied, considering the vse hereof appeareth
full oft in all parts of our life, and confusedly is vsed among
all other matters. For in praising a worthie man, we shall
haue iust cause to speake of al his vertues, of thinges profitable
in this life, and of pleasures in generall. Likewise in trauersing
a cause before a Iudge, we can not want the aide of
perswasion and good counsaile, concerning wealth, health,
life, and estimation, the helpe whereof is partly borowed of
this place. But whereas I haue set forth at large, the
places of confirmation, concerning counsaile in diuers
causes: it is not thought, that either they should all bee vsed
in number as they are, or in order as they stande: but that
any one may vse them, and order them as he shall thinke best,
according as the time, place, and person shall most of all
require.
¶ Of an
Oration iudiciall.
THe whole burdein of weightie
matters, and the earnest
triall of all controuersies, rest onely vpon Iudgement.
Therefore, when matters concerning land, goodes, or life,
or any such thing of like weight are called in question, wee
must euer haue recourse to this kinde of Oration, and after
iust examining of our cause by the places thereof, looke for
iudgement according to the lawe.
¶ Oration
iudiciall what it is.
ORation Iudiciall, is an
earnest debating in open assemblie,
of some weightie matter before a Iudge, where the
complainaunt commenseth his action, and the defendant
thereupon aunswereth at his perill, to all such thinges as are
laied to his charge.
¶ Of the
foundation, or rather the principall point in euery
debated matter, called of the Rhetoricians the
state, or constitution of the cause.
NOt onely it is needefull in
causes of iudgement, to
consider the scope whereunto we must leauell our
reasons, and direct our inuention: but also we ought in
euery cause to haue a respect vnto some one espesiall point
and chiefe article: that the rather the whole drift of our
doinges, may seeme to agree with our first deuised purpose.
For by this meanes our iudgement shalbe framed to speake
with discretion, and the ignoraunt shall learne to perceiue
with profite, whatsoeuer is said for his instruction. But they
that take vppon them to talke in open audience, and make
not their accompt before, what they will speake after: shall
neither be well liked for their inuention, nor allowed for their
wit, nor esteemed for their learning. For what other thing
doe they, that boult out their wordes
in such sort, and without
all aduisement vtter out matter: but shew themselues to
play as yong boyes or scarre Crowes doe, which shot in the
open and plaine fieldes at all aduentures hittie missie. The
Definition of a |
thing must first |
be knowen ere we |
speake our minde |
at large. |
learned therfore, and such as loue to be coumpted clerkes of
vnderstanding, and men of good circumspection and iudgement,
do warely scan what they chiefly minde to speake, and
by definition seeke what that is, whereunto they purpose to
direct their whole doinges. For by such aduised warenesse,
and good eye casting: they shall alwaies bee able both to
knowe what to say, and to speake what they ought. As for
example, if I shal haue occasion to speake in open audience,
of the obedience due to our soueraigne King, I ought first to
learne what is obedience, and after knowledge attained, to
direct my reasons to the onely proofe of this purpose, and
wholie to seeke confirmation of the same, and not turne my
tale to talke of Robin Hood, and to shew what a goodly
Archer was he, or to speake wonders of the man in the
Moone, such as are most needlesse, and farthest from the
purpose. For then the hearer looking to be taught his
obedience, and hearing in the meane season mad tales of
Archerie, and great meruailes of the man in the Moone:
being halfe astonied at his so great straying, will perhappes
say to himselfe: now whether the deuill wilt thou, come in
man againe for very shame, and tell me no bytales, such as
are to no purpose, but shew me that which thou didest
promise, both to teach and perswade at thy first entrie.
Assuredly such fond fellowes there haue bene, yea euen among
Preachers, that talking of faith, they haue fetcht their full
race from the xii. signes in the Zodiake. An other talking of
the generall resurrection, hath made a large matter of our
blessed Ladie, praysing her to bee so gentle, so curteous, and
so kinde, that it were better a thousand fold, to make sute to
her alone, then to Christ her sonne. And what needed
(I pray you) any such rehearsall being both vngodly, and
nothing at all to the purpose. For what maketh the praise of
our Ladie, to the confirmation of the generall doome?
Would not a man thinke him mad, that hauing an earnest
errande from London to Douer, would take it the next way
to ride first into Northfolke, next into Essex, and last into
Kent? And yet assuredly, many an
vnlearned and witlesse
man, hath straied in his talke much farther a great deale, yea
truely as farre as hence to Roome gates. Therefore wise are
they that followe Plinies aduise, who would that all men both
in writing, and speaking at large vpon any matter, should
Plinies counsaile for |
handeling of causes. |
euer haue an eye to the chiefe title, and principall ground of
their whole entent, neuer swaruing from their purpose, but
rather bringing all things together, to confirme their cause so
much as they can possible. Yea, the wise and expert men will
aske of themselues, how hangeth this to the purpose? To
what end do ye speake it? What maketh this for confirmation
of my cause? And so by oft questioning, either chide their
owne follie if they speake amisse, or els be assured they speake
to good purpose.
A state therefore generally,
is the chiefe ground of a matter,
and the principall point whereunto both he that speaketh
should referre his whole wit, and they that heare should
chiefly marke. A Preacher taketh in hande to shewe what
A state generally, |
what it is. |
prayer is, and how needfull for man to call vpon God: now
he should euer remember this his matter, applying his reasons
whollie and fullie to this end, that the hearers may both
knowe the nature of prayer, and the needfulnesse of prayer.
The which when he hath done, his promise is fulfilled, his
time well bestowed, and the hearers well instructed.
¶ A state of
constitution, what it is in
matters of iudgement.
IN all other causes the state
is gathered without contention,
and seuerally handled vpon good aduisement, as he shal
think best that professeth to speake. But in matters criminall,
where iudgement is required: there are two persons at
the least, which must through contrarietie stand and rest vpon
some issue. As for example. A seruing man is apprehended
by a Lawyer for Felonie, vpon suspition. The Lawyer saith
to the seruing man: thou hast done this Robberie. Nay
(saith he) I haue not done it. Vpon this conflict and matching
together ariseth this State, whether this seruing man hath
done this Robberie, or no? Vppon which point the Lawyer
must stand, and seeke to proue it to the vttermost of his
power.
A state thereof in matters
of Iudgement, is that thing which
doth arise vpon the first demaund,
and denial made betwixt
men, whereof the one part is the accuser, and the other part
the person, or persons accused. It is called a State, because
wee doe stande and rest vpon some one point, the which must
wholie and only be proued of the one side, and denied of the
State in iudgement, |
what it is. |
State, why it |
is so called. |
other. I cannot better terme it in English, then by the name
of an issue, the which not onely ariseth vpon much debating,
and long trauers vsed, whereupon all matters are saied to come
to an issue: but also els where an issue is said to be then, and
so often, as both parties stand vpon one point, the which doth
as well happen at the first beginning, before any probations
are vsed, as it doth at the latter ending, after the matter hath
at large bene discussed.
¶ The deuision
of States, or issues.
NOW that wee knowe what an
Issue is, it is next most
needefull, to shewe how many there are in number.
The wisest and best learned haue agreed vpon three onely
and no lesse, the which are these following.
|
{i. Coniecturall. |
The state. |
{ii. Legall. |
|
{iii. Iuridiciall. |
AND for the more plaine
vnderstanding of these darke
wordes, these three questions following, expounde their
meaning altogether.
{i. Whether the thing be, or no. |
{ii. What it is. |
{iii. What maner of thing it is. |
IN the first wee consider
vpon the rehearsall of a matter,
whether any such thing bee, or no. As if one should bee
accused of murther, good it were to knowe, whether any
murther were committed at all, or no, if it bee not perfectly
knowne before: and after to goe further, and examine
whether such a man that is accused, haue done the deede, or no.
In the second place we doubt
not vpon the thing done, but
we stand in doubt what to call it. Sometimes a man is
accused of Felony, and yet he proueth his offence to be but
a trespasse, whereupon he escapeth the daunger of death. An
other beeing accused for killing a man, confesseth his fault to
bee manslaughter, and denieth it vtterly to bee any murther,
whereupon hee maketh friends to purchase his pardon. Now
the Lawyers by their learning, must
iudge the doubt of this
debate, and tell what name he deserueth to haue, that hath
thus offended.
In the third place not onely
the deed is confessed, but the
maner of doing is defended. And if one were accused for
killing a man, to confesse the deede, and also to stande in it
that hee might iustly so doe, because he did it in his owne
defence: whereupon ariseth this question, whether his doing
be right or wrong. And to make these matters more plaine,
I will adde an example for euery state seuerally.
Of the state
coniecturall.
The Assertion.
Thou
hast killed this man.
The Answere.
I
haue not killed him.
The State or Issue.
Whether
he hath killed this man, or no. Thus we see vppon
the auouching and deniall, the matter standeth vpon an Issue.
Of the state Legall.
The Assertion.
Thou
hast committed treason in this fact.
The Answere.
I
denye it to be Treason.
The State or Issue.
Whether
his offence done may be called treason, or no.
Here is denyed that any such thing is in the deede done, as
is by word reported, and said to be.
¶ Of the state
Iuridicial.
The Assertion.
Thou
hast killed this man.
Answere.
I
graunt it, but I haue done it lawfully, because I killed him
in mine owne defence.
Whether a man may kill one in his owne
defence, or no,
and whether this man did so, or no.
¶ The Oration
coniecturall, what it is.
THe Oration coniecturall is
when matters bee examined,
and tried out by suspitions gathered, and some likelihood
of thing appearing. A Souldier is accused for killing a
Farmer. The Souldier denyeth it vtterly, and saith he did
not kill him. Hereupon riseth the
question, whether the
Souldier killed the Farmer or no, who is wel known to be
slaine. Now to proue this question, we must haue such
places of confirmation, as hereafter do followe.
¶ Places of
confirmation, to proue things by coniecture.
{i. Will to doe euill. |
{ii. Power to doe euill. |
IN the will must be considered
the qualitie of the man,
whether hee were like to doe such a deede, or no, and
what should moue him to attempt such an enterprise: whether
he did the murther vppon any displeasure before conceiued, or
of sodaine anger, or els for that he looked by his death to
receiue some commoditie, either land, or office, money, or
money worth, or any other gainefull thing.
Some are knowne to want no will
to kil a man, because
they haue bene flesht heretofore, passing as little vpon the death
of a man, as a Butcher doth passe for killing of an Oxe, being
heretofore either accused before a Iudge of manslaughter, or els
quit by some generall Pardon. Now, when the names of
such men are knowen, they make wise men euer hereafter to
haue them in suspition.
The Countrey where the man was
borne, declares sometime
his natural inclinasion, as if he were borne or brought
vp among the Tinsdale and Riddesdale men, he may the
soner be suspected.
Of what trade he is, by what
occupation he liueth.
Whether he be a Gamester, an
Alehouse haunter, or a
companion among Ruffians.
Of what wealth he is, and how
he came by that which he
hath, if he haue any.
What apparell he weareth, or
whether he loueth to goe
gaie, or no.
Of what nature he is, whether
he be hastie, headie, or
readie to picke quarrelles.
What shiftes he hath made from
time to time.
What moueth him to doe such a
hainous deede.
¶ Places of
confirmation, to proue whether he
had power to doe such a deede, or no.
THE ground where the man was
slaine, whether it was in
the Hye way, in a Wood, or betweene two Hilles, or els
where nigh vnto a hedge or secrete place.
The tyme, whether it was earely
in the morning, or late at
night.
Whether he was there about that
time, or no.
Whether he ranne away after the
deede was done, or had
any blood about him, or trembled, or staggerd, or was
contrary in telling of his tale, and how he kept his countenaunce.
Hope to keepe his deede
secrete, by reason of the place,
time, and secrete maner of doing.
Witnesses examined of his
being, either in this or that
place.
By comparing of the strength of
the Murtherer, with the
other mans weakenesse, Armour with nakednesse, and stoutnesse
with simplicitie.
His confession.
¶ An example
of an Oration iudiciall, to proue by coniectures,
the knowledge of a notable and most hainous offence,
committed by a Souldier.
AS Nature hath euer abhorred
Murder, and God in all ages
most terribly hath plagued bloodshedding, so I trust your
wisedomes (most worthie Iudges) will speedely seeke the
execution of this most hatefull sinne. And where as God
reuealeth to the sight of men, the knowledge of such offences
by diuers likelihoods, & probable coniectures: I doubt not,
but you being called of God to heare such causes, will doe
herein as reason shal require, and as this detestable offence
shal moue you, vpon rehearsall of the matter. The man that
is wel knowne to be slaine, was a worthie Farmer, a good
housekeeper, a wealthie Husbandman, one that trauailed much
in this worlde, meaning vprightly in all his doinges, and
therefore beloued among al men, & lamented of many when
his death was knowne. This Souldier beeing desperate in his
doinges, and liuing by spoyle all his life time, came newly from
the Warres, whose handes hath bene lately bathed in blood, and
now he keepeth this Countrey (where this Farmer was slaine)
and hath beene here for the space of one whole Moneth
together, and by all likelihoodes, he hath slaine this honest
Farmer. For such men flesht villaines, make small acoumpt
for killing any one, and doe it they will without any mercie,
when they maye see their time. Yea, this wretch is bruted
for his beastly demeanour, and knowne
of long time to be
a strong theef. Neither had he escaped the daunger of the
lawe, if the Kings free Pardon had not preuented the execution.
His name declares his naughtie nature, and his wicked
liuing hath made him famous. For who is he that hearing of
N. (the notable offenders name, might here bee rehearsed)
doth not thinke by and by, that hee were like to doe such
a deede? Neither is he onely knowne vniuersally to bee
naught, but his soyle also (where he was borne) giueth him to
bee an euill man: considering he was bredde and brought vp
among a denne of Theeues, among the men of Tinsdale &
Riddesdale, where pillage is good purchase, and murthering is
coumpted manhood. Occupation hath he none, nor yet any
other honest meanes, whereby to maintaine himselfe: and yet
he liueth most sumpteously. No greater gamester in a whole
Countrey, no such ryotor, a notable whoremonger, a leaude
Royster among Ruffians, a notable waister, to day full of
money, within seuen night after not worth a groate. There
is no man that seeth him, but will take him for his Apparell
to be a gentleman. He hath his chaunge of suites, yea, he
spareth not to goe in his Silkes and Veluet. A great
quareller and fray maker, glad when he may be at defiance
with one or other, he made such shiftes for money ere now,
that I maruaile how he hath liued till this day. And now
being at a lowe ebbe, and loth to seeme base in his estate,
thought to aduenture vpon this Farmer, and either to winne
the Saddle, or els to lose the Horse. And thus beeing so
farre forward, wanting no will to attempt this wicked deede,
he sought by all meanes possible, conuenient oportunitie to
compasse his desire. And wayting vnder a Wood side, nigh
vnto the high way, about sixe a clocke at night, hee set vppon
this Farmer, at what time he was comming homeward. For
it appeareth not onely by his owne confession, that hee was
there aboute the selfe same time, where this man was slaine:
but also there bee men that sawe him ride in great haste,
about the selfe same time. And because God would haue this
murder to be knowne, looke I pray you, what bloud he
carieth about him, to beare witnesse against him of his most
wicked deede. Againe, his owne confession doth plainly goe
against him, for he is in so many tales, that he cannot tell
what to say. And often his colour
chaungeth, his bodie
shaketh, and his tongue foultereth within his mouth. And
such men as hee bringeth in to beare witnesse with him, that
he was at such a place at the self same howre, when the Farmer
was slaine: they will not bee sworne for the very hower, but
they say he was at such a place within two howres after.
Now Lord, doth not this matter seeme most plaine vnto al
men, especially seeing this deede was done at such a time,
and in such a place, that if the Deuill had not beene his
good Lord, the matter had neuer come to light. And who
will not say, that this caytife had little cause to feare, but
rather power enough to doe his wicked fact, seeing he is so
sturdie and so strong, and the other so weake and vnweldie:
yea, seeing this vilaine was armed, and the other man naked.
Doubt you not (worthie Iudges) seeing such notes of his
former life, to declare his inward nature, and perceiuing such
coniectures lawfully gathered vpon iust suspition: but that
this wretched souldier hath slaine this worthy Farmer. And
therefore, I appeale for Iustice vnto your wisedomes, for the
death of this innocent man, whose blood before God asketh
iust auengement. I doubt not but you remember the wordes
of Salamon, who saith: It is as great sinne to forgiue the
wicked, as it is euill to condemne the innocent: and as I call
vnfeinedly for rightfull Iudgement, so I hope assuredly for
iust execution.
The person accused beeing
innocent of the crime that is laied
to his charge, may vse the selfe same places for his owne
defence, the which his accuser vsed to proue him giltie.
¶ The
interpretation of a lawe, otherwise called a state legall.
IN boulting out the true
meaning of a Lawe, wee must vse
to search out the nature of the same, by defyning some one
word, or comparing one Lawe with an other, iudging vppon
good triall, what is right, and what is wrong.
The parts.
{i. Definition. |
{ii. Contrary Lawes. |
{iii. Lawes made and the end of the lawmaker. |
{iiii. Ambiguitie, or doubtfulnesse. |
{v. Probation by things like. |
{vi. Chalenging or refusing. |
¶ Definition
what is it.
THen we vse to define a matter,
when we cannot agree
vpon the nature of some worde, the which wee learne to
knowe by asking the question, what it is. As for example.
Where one is apprehended for killing a man, we lay murder
to his charge: whereupon the accused person, when he
graunteth the killing, & yet denieth it to be murder: we
must streight after haue recourse to the definition, and aske
what is murder, by defining whereof, and comparing the
nature of the word with his deede done, wee shall sone knowe
whether he committed murder, or manslaughter.
¶ Contrary
Lawes.
IT often happeneth, that lawes
seeme to haue a certain
repugnancie, whereof among many riseth much contention,
whereas if both the lawes were well weighed and considered,
according to their circumstances, they would appeare nothing
contrary in matter, though in words they seeme to dissent.
Christ giueth warning, and chargeth his Disciples in the x. of
Math. that they preach not the glad tidinges of his comming
into the worlde, to the Gentiles, but to the Iewes onely,
vnto whom he was sent by his father. And yet after his
resurrection, we doe reade in the last of Matthewe, that he
commaunded his disciples to go into all the whole world, and
preach the glad tidings of his passion, and raunsome, paied
for all creatures liuing. Now, though these two lawes
seeme contrary, yet it is nothing so. For, if the Iewes
would haue receiued Christ, and acknowledged him their
Sauiour, vndoubtedly, they had beene the onely Children of
God, vnto whom, the promise and couenaunt was made from
the beginning. But because they refused their Sauiour, and
crucified the Lord of glorie: Christ made the lawe generall,
and called all men to life that would repent, promising
saluation to all such, as beleeued and were Baptised. So
that the particuler lawe being now abrogated, must needes
giue place to the superiour.
¶ Fower
lessons to be obserued, where contrary
Lawes are called in question.
{i. The inferior law, must giue place to the superior. |
{ii. The lawe generall, must yeeld to the speciall. |
{iii. Mans law, to Gods law. |
{iiii. An olde law, to a new law. |
THere be lawes vttered by
Christes owne mouth, the
which if they bee taken according as they are spoken,
seeme to containe great absurditie in them. And therefore,
the minde of the lawe maker, must rather bee obserued, then
the bare words taken only as they are spoken. Christ saieth
Math. 5. |
Math. 19. |
Math. 16. |
in the fifth of Matthewe. If thy right eye be an offence to
thee, plucke him out, and cast him away from thee. If one
giue thee a blow of thy right cheeke, turne to him again thy
left cheke. There be some Eunuches, that haue gelded
themselues from the kingdome of Heauen. Goe and sell all
that thou haste, and giue it to the poore. He that doth not
take vp his crosse and followe me, is not worthy of mee. In
all which sentences, there is no such meaning, as the bare
words vttered seeme to yeeld. Plucking out of the eye,
declares an auoyding of all euill occasions. Receiuing a
blowe vpon the left cheeke, commendes vnto vs modestie,
and pacience in aduersitie. Gelding, signifieth a subduing of
our affections, and taming the foule lust of pleasure, vnto the
wil of reason. Goe and sell all: declares we should be
liberall, and glad to parte with our goodes to the poore and
needie. Bearing the crosse betokeneth sufferaunce of all
sorowes and miseries in this worlde. Now, to proue that the
will of the law maker, is none other then I haue said: I may
vse the testimonies of other places in the Scripture, and compare
them with these sentences, and so iudge by iust examination,
and diligent search the true meaning of the law maker.
¶ Ambiguitie.
SOmetymes a doubt is made vpon
some worde or sentence,
when it signifieth diuers things, or may diuersly bee taken,
whereupon full oft ariseth much contention. The Lawiers
lacke no cases, to fill this part full of examples. For rather
then faile, they will make doubtes oftentimes, where no doubt
should be at all. Is his Lease long enough (quoth one:) yea
sir, it is very long said a poore Housbandman. Then (quoth
he) let me alone with it, I will finde a hole in it I warrant
thee. In all this talke I except alwaies the good Lawiers,
and I may wel spare them, for they are but a fewe.
¶ Probation by
things like.
WHen there is no certaine Law
by expresse words,
vttered for some heinous offender: we may iudge the
offence worthy death, by rehersall of
some other Law, that
soundeth much that waye. As thus. The Ciuill Lawe appointeth,
that he shall be put in a Sacke, and cast in the Sea, that
killeth his father: well, then he that killeth his mother, should by
all reason in like sort bee ordered. It is lawfull to haue a Magistrate,
therefore it is lawfull to pleade matters before an officer.
And thus, though, the last cannot be proued by expresse
words, yet the same is found lawfull by rehearsall of the first.
¶ Chalenging
or refusing.
WE vse this order, when we
remoue our sutes from one
Court to an other, as if a man should appele from the
Common place, to the Chauncerie. Or if one should bee
called by a wrong name, not to aunswere vnto it. Or if one
refuse to aunswere in the Spirituall Courte, and appele to the
Lord Chauncellour.
¶ The Oration
of right or wrong, called
otherwise the state Iuridiciall.
AFter a deede is well knowen to
be done, by some one
person, we goe to the next and searche whether it be
right or wrong. And that is, when the maner of doing is
examined, and the matter tried through reasoning, and much
debating, whether it be wrongfully doen, or otherwise.
¶ The Diuision.
THis state of right or wrong,
is two waies deuided, whereof
the one is, when the matter by the owne nature, is
defended to be right, without any further seeking, called of
the Rhetoricians, the state absolute.
The other (vsing little
force or strength, to maintaine the
matter) is, when outwarde helpe is sought, and by-wayes vsed
to purchase fauour, called otherwise the state assumptiue.
Places of
Confirmation for the first kinde, are vij.
{i. Nature it selfe. |
{ii. Gods Law, and mans Law. |
{iii. Custome. |
{iiii. Equitie. |
{v. True dealing. |
{vi. Auncient examples. |
{vii. Couenauntes and deedes autentique. |
TVllie in his most
worthy Oration, made in behalfe of Milo, declares that Milo
slue Clodius
most lawfully, whom
Clodius sought to haue slaine
most wickedly. For (quoth Tullie) if nature haue graffed this
in man, if Lawe haue
confirmed
it, if necessitie haue taught it, if custome haue kept it,
if equitie haue maintained it, if true dealing hath allowed it,
if all common weales haue vsed it, if deedes auncient haue
sealed this vp, that euery creature liuing should fence it selfe
against outward violence: no man can thinke that Milo hath
done wrong, in killing of Clodius, except you think, that
when men meete with theeues, either they must be slaine of
them, or els condemned of you.
¶ Places of
confirmation for the second kinde, are iiij.
{Graunting of the fault committed. |
{Blaming euill companie for it. |
{Comparing the fault, and declaring that either they |
{ must haue done that, or els haue
done worse. |
{Shifting it from vs, and shewing that we did it |
{ vppon commaundement. |
COnfessing of the fault, is
when the excuseth persone graunteth
his crime, and craueth pardon thereupon, leauing to
aske Iustice, and leaning wholy vnto mercie.
¶ Confession
of the fault vsed
two maner of waies.
THe first is, when one accuseth
himselfe, that he did it not
willingly, but vnwares, and by chaunce.
The seconde is, when he
asketh pardon for the faulte done,
considering his seruice to the Commonweale, and his worthy
deedes heretofore done, promysing amendment of his former
euill deed: the which words would not be vsed before a Iudge,
but before a King, or Generall of an Armie. For the Iudges
must giue sentence according to the Lawe: the King may
forgiue, as authour of the Lawe, and hauing power in his hande,
may doe as he shall thinke best.
Blaming other, how |
it is saied. |
Blaming other for the fault
done, is when we saie, that the
accused person, would neuer haue done such a deede, if other
against whom also, this accusation is intended, had not beene
euill men, and giuen iust cause of such a wicked deede.
Comparing the fault is when we
saie, that by slaying an
euill man, we haue done a good deede, cutting away the
corrupt and rotten member, for preseruation of the whole
body. Or thus: some set a whole toune on fire, because
their enemies should haue none
aduauntage by it. The Saguntines, being tributarie to the
Romaines, slue their
owne
children, burnt their goods, and fired their bodies, because
they would not subiect to that cruel Hanniball, and lose
their allegiaunce, due to the Romaines.
Shifting the fault |
from vs. |
Shifting it from vs, is when
wee say that if other had not
set vs on, we would neuer haue attempted such an enterprise.
As often times the Souldiour saieth, his Captaines bidding was
his enforcement: the seruaunt thinketh his maisters commaundement,
to be a sufficient defence for his discharge.
Continue on to Book II.
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