Bellum Erasmi· Translated into englyshe

Dulce bellum inexpertis.

IT IS BOTHE an ele∣gante prouerbe, and amonge al other, by the writynges of many excellent auctours, ful often and solempnely vsed, Dulce bellū inexpertis, that is to say, Warre is swete to them that know it nat. There be some thinges amonge mor∣tal mens businesses, in the whiche how great danger and hurte there is, a man can not per¦ceyue tylle he make a profe. The loue and frendshyppe of a great man is swete to them that be not experte: he that hath had therof experience, is aferde. It semeth to be a gay and a glorious thynge, to iette vp and downe amonge the nobles of the courte, and to be occupied in the kynges busynes: but old men, to whom that thing by long experiēce is wel knowen, do gladly absteyne them selfe from suche felicitie. It semeth a pleasant thyng to be in loue with a yonge dammo sell: but that is vnto theym, that haue not yet perceyued howe moche grefe and bytternes is in suche loue. So after this maner of facion, this prouerbe may be applied to euerye busynes, that is adioyned with great peryll and with many euyls: the whiche no man wyl take on hande, but he that is yonge and wanteth ex∣perience

of thynges.

Aristotle in his boke of Rhetorike, sheweth the cause, why youthe is more bolder, and contrary wyse olde age more fearefull: for vnto yonge men lacke of experience is cause of great boldnes, and to the other, experiēce of many grefes ingendreth feare and doub∣tynge. Then if there be any thynge in the worlde, that shulde be taken in hande with feare and doubtynge, ye that oughte by all maner meanes to be fledde, to be withstāde with prayer, and to be cleane auoyded, veri∣ly it is warre: than whiche nothynge is ey∣ther more wycked, or more wretched, or that more farther of distroyeth, or that nere hand cle••eth sorer to, or dothe more hurte, or is more horrible, and brefely to speke, nothyng dothe worse become a man (I wol not say a christen mā) then warre. And yet it is a won¦der to speake of, howe nowe a dayes in eue∣ry place, howe lyghtly, and howe for eue∣ry trifelynge mattier, it is taken on hande, howe outragiously and barbarously it is ge∣sted and doone, not onely of hethen people, but also of christen men, not onely of seculer men, but also of pristes and byshops: not on∣ly of yonge men, and of them that haue none experience, but also of old men, and of those

that so often haue hadde experience, not on∣ly of the commons and moeuable vulgare people, but mooste speciallye of the princis, whose duetie had bene, by wysedome and re∣son to sette in a good order, and to pacifie the light and hasty mouinges of the folishe mul∣titude. Nor there lacke neyther lawyers, nor yet diuines, the which put to theyr fyre bran¦des, to kendel these thinges so abomynable, and they encorage them that els were colde, & they priuely prouoke those to it, that were wery therof. And by these meanes it is come to that passe, that warre is a thynge nowe so well accepted, that men wonder at hym, that is not pleased therwith. It is so moche ap∣proued, that it is counted a wycked thynge (and I had almoste sayde herisie) to reproue this one thynge, the whiche as it is aboue al other thynges moste mischiefful, so it is most wretched. But howe more iustly shulde this be wondred at, what euyl spirite, what pesti∣lence, what mischiefe, and what madnes put firste in mannes mynde a thynge so beyonde measure beastly, that this moste pleasant, and reasonable creature man, the whiche nature hath brought forth to pece and beneuolence, whiche one alone she hath brought forthe to the helpe and succour of al other: shuld with

so wylde woodnes, with so madde rages, ronne heedlonge one to distroye an other? At the whiche thynge he shall also moche more meruayle, who so euer wold withdraw his mynde from the opinions of the common people, and woll turne it to beholde the very pure strengthe and nature of thynges: and woll aparte beholde wel with philosophical¦••ies the image of man on the tone syde, and the picture of warre on the tother syde.

Then first of al if one wold cōsider wel but the behauour & shap of mās body shal he not forthewith perceyue, that Nature, or rather god, hath shaped this creature, not to warre, but to frendshyppe, not to distruction, but to helthe, not to wronge, but to kyndenes and beneuolence? For where as nature hath ar∣med al other bestis with their owne armure, as the violence of the bullis she hath armed with hornes, the ramping lion with clawes, to the bore she hath giuē the gnashīg tuskes, she hath armid the elephāt with a long trūpe snoute, besyde his great huge body and hard¦nes of the skynne: she hath fensed the Loco∣drill with a skynne as harde as a plate: to the Delphin fyshe she hath gyuen fynnes in ••tede of a dart: The Porcopin she defendeth with thornes: the ray and thornebacke with

sharpe prickels: to the cocke she hath giuen stronge spurres. Som she fenseth with a shel, some with a harde hyde, as it were thycke lether, or barke of a tree. Some she proui∣deth to saue by swyftnes of flyght, as dou∣ues. And to some she hathe gyuen venome in¦stede of a weapon. To some she hath gyuen a moche horrible and owgly loke, she hath gi∣uen terrible eies and grountynge voyce. And she hath also set amonge some of theym continual discention and debate. Man alone she hath brought forth all naked, weke, ten∣der, and without any armure, with most sof∣test fleshe and smothe skynne. There is no∣thynge at all in all his membres that maye seme to be ordeyned to warre, or to any vio∣lence, I wolle not seye at this tyme, that where all other be••stis, anone as they are brought forthe, they are able of theym selfe to gette their foode: Man alone cometh so forthe, that a longe season after he is borne, he dependeth all together on the helpe of o∣ther. He can neyther speake nor goo, nor yet take meate, he desyreth helpe alonely by his infant crieng: so that a man may at the leest way, by this coniect, that this creature alone was borne al to loue and amitie, whiche spe∣cially increaseth and is faste knytte together

by good turnes done eftesones of one to an other. And for this cause Nature wold, that a man shuld not so moche thanke her, for the gyfte of lyfe, whiche she hathe gyuen vnto hym, as he shulde thanke kyndnes and bene∣uolence, wherby he myght euidently vnder∣stande hym selfe, that he was all to gether dedicate and bounden to the goddis of gra∣cis: that is to say to kyndnes, beneuolence, and amitie. And beside this nature hath gy∣uen vnto man, a countinance not terrible and lothly, as vnto other brute bestis: but meke and demure, representynge the very tokens of lo••e and beneuolence. She hathe gyuen hym amiable eies, and in them assured mar∣kes of the inward mynd. She hath ordeined him armes to clyp & enbrace. She hath gyuen hym the wytte and vnderstandynge to kysse: wherby the very myndes and hartes of men shulde be coupled to gether, euen as thoughe they touched eche other. Vnto man alone she hath gyuen laughyng, a token of good chere and gladnes. To man alone she hath gyuen wepynge teares, as it were a wedde or to∣ken of mekenes and mercy. Ye and she hathe gyuen hym a voyce not thretnyng and horri∣ble, as vnto other brute be••tes, but amiable and pleasant. Nature not yet content with al

this, she hath gyuen vnto man alone the com¦moditie of speche and raysonynge: the whi∣che thynges verily may specially bothe gette and noryshe beneuolence, so that nothynge at all shulde be done amonge men by violence. She hath indewed man with hatred of soli∣tarynes, and with loue of company. She hath vtterly sowen in man the ve••y sedes of Bene¦uolence. She hathe so doone, that the selfe same thynge, that is moste holsome, shulde be moo••te ••wete and delectable. For what is more delectable than a frende? And ageyne, what thynge is more necessarie? Moreouer, if a man myght leade all his lyfe moste pro∣fytably withoute any medlynge with other men, yet nothyng wold seme plesant without a felowe: except a man wolde caste of al hu∣manitie, and forsakyng his owne kynd wold become a beaste.

Besyde al this, Nature hath indewed man with knowlege of li••eral sciences, and a fer∣uent desire of knowledge: whiche thynge as it doth moste specially withdrawe mans wyt from all beastly wyldnes: so hath it a speci∣all grace to get and knyt to gether loue and frendshyp. For I dare boldely sey, that no∣ther affinitie nor yet kynrede, doth bynde the myndes of men to gether with ••trayter and

surer bandis of amitie, than dothe the felow∣shyppe of them that be lerned in good letters & honeste studies. And aboue al this, nature hath diuided among men by a merueylous va¦rietie the gyftes, as wel of the soule as of the body, to thintent truly that euery man might fynde in euery synguler persone one thyng or other, whiche they shuld other loue or preise for the excellency therof: or els greatly de∣syre and make moche of it, for the nede and profyte that cometh therof. Finally she hath indowed man with a sparke of a godly mind: so that though he see no rewarde, yet of his owne courage he delyteth to do euerye man good. For vnto god it is mooste propre and naturalle, by his benefyte to do euery bodye good. Els what meaneth it, that we reioyce and conceyue in our myndes no lyttell plea∣sure, when we perceyue that any creature is by our meanes preserued.

More ouer god hathe ordeyned man in this worlde, as it were the verye image of hym selfe, to the intēt, that he, as it were a god in erth, shuld prouide for the welthe of al crea¦tures. And this thīg the very brute bestis, do also perceiue, for we may se, that nat only the tame bestis, but also the liberdis, lions, and other more fierce and wylde, when they be

in any great ieoperdie, they flee to man for succour. So man is, whan all thyngis faile, the laste refuge to all maner creatures. He is vnto them all the verye assured aulter and seynctuarie.

I haue here peynted oute to you the y∣mage of man as welle as I canne: On the other syde (if it lyke you) ageynste the figure of man, let vs purtraire the facion and shap of warre.

Nowe then imagin in thy mynde, that thou doste beholde two hoo••tis of barbarous peo¦ple, of whome the loke is fierce and cruelle, and the voyce horrible, the terrible and fere∣full rustelynge and glysteryng of theyr har∣nes and weapons, the vnlouely mourmour of so howge a multitude, the eies sternely menassyng, the blody blastis & terrible soun∣des of trumpettis & clarions, the thondryng of the gonnes, no lesse fearefull than thon∣der in dede, but moche more hurtefulle, the woode crie & clamour, the furious and mad runnyng to gether, the outragious slaugh∣ter, the cruel chances of theym that slee, and of those that are stryken downe and slayne, the heapes of slaughters, the feldes ouer∣flowen with bloudde, the ryuers dyed redde with mans bloudde. And it chauncethe

often tymes amonge, that the brother fygh∣teth with the brother, one kynsman with an other, frende ageynst frende: and in that cō∣mon furious woodnes ofte tymes one thru∣steth his weapon quyte through the body of an other, that neuer gaue hym so moche as a foule worde. Verily this tragidie conteineth so many mischeues, that it wold abhorre a∣ny mans harte to speake therof. I wyl lette passe to speake of the hurtes, whiche are in c••mparison of the other but light and com∣mune, as the tredynge downe and distroying of the corne al about, the burnynge of tow∣nes, the villages fired, the dryuynge aweye of cattell, the rauysshynge of maydens, the olde men ledde forthe in captiuitie, the rob∣bynge of churches, and al thynges confoun∣ded and full of theftes, pillages, & violence. Nother I woll not speake nowe of those thin¦ges, whiche are wonte to folowe the mooste happye and moste iuste warre of all.

The poore commons pilled, the nobles ouer charged, so many olde men of their chyldren bereued, ye and slayne also in the sl••ughter of theyr chylderne, so many olde women de∣stitute, whome sorowe more cruelly sleeth then the weapon it selfe, so many honest wy∣ues become wydowes, so many chyldren fa∣therles,

so many lamentable howses, so ma∣ny ryche men brought to extreme pouertie. And what nedeth it here to speake of the di∣struction of good maners, sithe there is no man, but he knoweth ryght wel, that the v∣niuersal pestilence of al mischeuous lyuynge procedeth at ones of warre. Therof cometh despysynge of vertue and godly lyuynge: herof cometh, that the lawes are neglected, and not regarded, hereof cometh a prompte and a redy stomake, boldly to do euery mis∣cheuous dede. Out of this fountayne sprin∣geth so houge great companyes of thenes, robbers, sacrilegers, and mourderers•• And that is mooste greuouse of all, this mischie∣uous pestilence can not kepe hir selfe ••ithi•• hir boundes: but after it is begon in ••••m one corner, it doeth not onely (as a contag••ous disease) sprede abrode and enfecte the cou••∣treyes nere adioynynge to hit, but also it draweth in to that commune rumble and troublous busynesse the countreyes that be verye farre of, eyther for nede, or by rea∣son of affinitie, or elles by occasion of some leage made. Ye and more o••er, one warre springeth of an other: of a dissembled warre there comith warre in dede, & of a very smal, a right great warre hath risen. Nor it chan∣cethe

often tymes none other wyse in these thynges, thenne hit is feyned of the mon∣st••••, whiche laye in the lake or po••ddell cal∣led Lerna.

For these causes I trowe, the olde poe••is, the whiche most sagely perceyued the power and nature of thynges, & with most mete fey¦ninges, couertly shadowid the same: haue left in wrytynge, that warre was sent out of hel: and that by the labour of the furies of hell: nor euery one of the furies was not mete and conuenient to bryng about this busynes, but the moste pestilent and mischieuoust of them all, was chosen oute for the nones, whiche hathe a thousande names, and a thousande craftis to do hurte. She beinge armed with a thousand serpentis, blowith before her fend∣ly trumpette. Pan with furious ruffelynge accombreth euerye place. Bellona, shakethe hir furious flayle. And then the wycked fu∣riousnes hym selfe, when he hathe vndone all knottis and broken all bondes, russheth oute with blouddye mouthe horryble to be∣holde.

The grammarians perceyued right welle these thynges, of the whiche, some wyl, that warre haue his name by contrary meanyng of the worde Bellum, that is to seye fayre,

bycause it hathe nothynge good nor feyre. Nor bellum, that is for to sey warre, is none other wyse called Bellum, that is to seye fayre: than the furies are called Eume∣nides, that is to seye meke: by cause they are woode and contrarye to all mekenes. And somme gran maryans thynke rather, that Bellum warre, shoulde be deryuied out of this worde Belua, that is for to say, a brute beaste: for soo moche as hit belon∣geth to brute beastis, and not vnto menne to runne to gether, eche to distroye other. But it semeth to me to passe farre all wylde and all brute beastlynes, to fyght to gether with weapons.

Fyrste for there are manye of the brute beastis, eche in his kynde, that agree and lyue in a gentylle facion to gether, and they go to gether in hirdes and flockes•• and eche helpeth to defende other. Nor it is not the nature of all wylde beastes to fyghte. For some are harmeles, as doois and haaris. But they that are the moste fierse of all, as lyons, wolfes, and tygers: doo not make warre amonge theym selfe as we doo. One dogge eatethe not an nother. The lyons, thoughe they be fierce and cruelle, yet they fyghte not amonge theym selfe.

One dragon is in peace with an other. And there is agrement amonge poysons. But vn∣to man there is no wylde or cruel beast more hurtfull, than man.

Ageyne, when the brute beastis fyght, they fyght with theyr owne naturall armour: we men, aboue nature, to the distruction of men, arme our self with armour, inuented by craft of the dyuell. Nor the wylde beastis are not cruell for euery cause: but eyther when hun∣ger maketh them fierce, or els when they per¦ceyue them selfe to be hunted and pursued to the dethe, or elles when they fere leste their yonglynges shuld take any harme or be stol∣len from them. But (oh good lord) for what tryflynge causes what tragidies of warre do we styre vp•• For moste vayne titles, for chyldyshe wra••he, for a wenche, ye and for causes moche more scornefull then these, we be inflamed to fyght.

More ouer, when the brute beastis fyghte, theyr warre is one for one, ye and that is ve∣rye shorte. And when the battayle is soorest foughten, yet is there not paste one or two, that goeth away sore wounded. When was it euer harde, that an hundred thousande brute beastis were slayn at one tyme fyghtyng and tearynge one an other: whiche thynge men

do full oste & in many places? And besyde this, where as some wylde beastes haue na∣turall debate with some other, that be of a contrary kynde: So agayne there be some, with whiche they louyngly agree in a sure amitie. But man with man, and eche with other, haue amonge them continuall warre: nor there is no leage sure inough amōge any men. So that what so euer it be, that hath gone out of kynde, it hath gone out of kynde into a worse facion: then though nature her selfe had ingēdred therin a malyce at the be∣gynnynge.

Wyll ye se howe beastly, howe fowle, and howe vnworthy a thynge warre is for man? Dyd ye neuer beholde a lyon let loose vnto a beare? What gapynges, what rorynges, what grisely gnesshynge, what tearynge of theyr flesshe is there? He trembleth, that be boldeth theym, yea though he stande sure and safe inough from them. But howe mo∣che more grisely a sighte is it, howe moche more outragious and cruel, to beholde man, to fyght with man, arrayed with so moche armour, and with so many weapons? I be∣seche you, who wolde beleue, that they were men, & it were not bycause warre is a thyng so moche in custome, that no man meruayleth

at it? Theyr eies glowe lyke fyre, theyr fa∣ces be paale, theyr marchynge forth is lyke men in a furie, theyr voyce skrytshynge and gruntynge, theyr crye and clamour woode, all is iron, theyr harnes and weapons gyn∣glen and clutteren, & the gounnes thondren. It myght haue ben better suffred, if man for lacke of meate and drynke, shuld haue fought with man, to the intent he myght deuour his fleshe and drynke his bloudde: All be it, it is come also nowe to that passe, that somme there be, that do it more of hatrede, then ei∣ther for hunger or for thyrste. But now this same thynge is done more cruelly, with wea∣pons enuenomed, and with diuilyshe ingins. So that no where may be perceyued any to∣ken of man. Trow ye that nature coude here knowe the same thynge, that she sometyme had wrought with her owne handes? And if any man wolde enfourme her, that it were man, that she behelde in suche array: myght she not well, with great wonderynge, saye these wordes?

What newe maner pageant is this that I beholde? what dyuell of hell hath broughte vs forth this monstre? There be some that calle me a stepmother, bycause that amonge so great heapes of thynges of my makynge

I haue brought forth some venemous thyn∣ges: and yet haue I ordeyned the selfe same venemous thynges, for mans behofe. And bycause I haue made somme beastes verye fiers and peryllous: and yet is there no beest so wilde nor so peryllous, but that by crafte and diligence he may be made tame and gen∣tyll. By mannes diligente labour the lyons bene made tame, the dragons meke, and the beares obedient. But what is this, that wors is thanne any steppemother, whiche hathe broughte vs forthe, this newe vnreasona∣ble brute beaste, the pestilence and mischiefe of all this worlde? One beaste alone I brought forthe holly dedicate to be beneuo∣lente, pleasante, frendely, and helthe of all other? What hath chaunced, that this crea∣ture is chaunged into suche a brute beaste? I perceyue nothynge of the creature man•• whiche I my selfe made. What euyll spirite hath thus defyled my warke? What Wytche hath bewitched the mynd of man, and trans∣formed it into so beastysshe? What sorceresse hath thus tourned hym oute of his kyndely shappe? I commaunde and wolde the wret∣ched creature shulde beholde hym selfe in a glasse. But alas what shal the eies se, where the mynde is awey? Yet beholde thy selfe

(if thou canst) thou furious warriour, and se if thou mayste by any meanes recouer thy selfe aga••ne. From whe••se haste thou that t••retnynge creste vppon thy heed? Frome whens haste thou that shynynge helmette? from whens are those iron hornes? Whens cometh it, that thyne elbowes are so sharpe and piked? Where haddest thou those scales? Where haddest thou those brasen teethe? Of whence are those harde platis? Whence are those ••eedly weapons? F••o whens cometh to the this voyce more horrible then of a wylde beaste? What a loke and countin••nce hast thou more terrible, thā of a brute beast? Where haste thou gotten this thonder and l••ghtnynge, b••th more fearefull and hurte∣fu••le then is the verye thonder and lyghte∣nynge i•• selfe? I fourmed the a goodly cre∣ature, what came in thy mynde, that thou wold••••••e thus tr••n••••ourme thy selfe in to so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and so b••astly facion, that there is no ••rute ••eas••e so vnreasonable in comparyson vnto man?

These wordes, and many other suche lyke I suppose, she d••me nature, the worker of al thynges, wolde say. T••en sith man is suche, as is shewed before that he is: & that warre is suche a thynge, lyke as to ofte we haue

felte and knowen, it semeth to me no smalle wonder, what yl spirite, what disese, or what myshappe, first put into mans mynde, that he wolde bathe his mortalle weapon in the bloudde of man. It muste nedes be, that mē mounted vp to so greatte madnes by dyuers degrees. For there was neuer man yet (as Iuuenall sayth) that was sodenly moste vn∣gratious of all. And alwaye thynges moste worste, haue crept in amonge mens maners of lyuynge, vnder the shadowe and shappe of goodnes. For somtyme those men that were in the begynnynge of the worlde, ledde theyr lynes in wodes, they went naked, they had no walled townes, nor howses to put theyr heedes in: it happed other whyle that they were sore greued and distroyed with wylde beastis. Wherfore with them fyrste of all, mē made warre, & he was estemed a mighty stronge man, and a capitayne, that coude best defende mankynd from the violence of wilde beastis. Yea and it semed to theym a thynge mooste egall, to strangle the stranglers, and to slee the sleers, namely whanne the wylde beaste, not prouoked by vs for any hurte to them done, wolde wylfully sette vppon vs. And so by reason that this was counted a thynge mooste worthy of preyse (for hereof

it rose that Hercules was made a god, the lufty stomacked yonge men, beganne all a∣boute to hunte and chace the wylde beastes, and as a token of theyr valyant victorie, the skynnes of suche beastis as they slewe, were sette vp in suche places, as the people might beholde theym. Besydes this they were not contented to slee the wylde beastes, but they vsed to weare theyr skynnes to kepe theym from the colde in wynter. These were the fyrst slaughters that men vsed: These were theyr spoyles and robberies. After this, they went so ferforth, that they were bolde to do a thynge, whiche Pythagoras thoughte to be very wycked: and it myghte seeme to vs also a thynge monsterous, if custome were not, whiche hath so great strength in euerye place: that by custome it was reputed in som countreys a moche charitable dede, if a man wolde, whan his father were very olde, first sore beate hym, and after thruste hym heed∣longe into a pytte, and so bereue hym of his lyfe, by whome it chaunced hym to haue the gyfte of lyfe. It was counted a holy thyng, a man to fede on the fleshe of his owne kyns men and frendes. They thought it a goodly thynge, that a virgin shulde be made cōmon to the people in the temple of Venns. And

many other thynges, more abhominable thē these: of whiche if a man shoulde nowe but onely speake, euery manne wolde abhorre to here hym. Surely there is nothynge so vn∣gratious, nor nothynge so cruelle, but men woll holde therwith, if it be ones approued by custome. The wyll ye here, what a dede they durste at the laste do? They were not abasshed to eate the carcases of the wylde beastis that were slayne: to teare the vnsa∣uery flesshe with theyr tethe, to drynke the bloudde, to sucke out the matter of theym: and (as Ouide sayth) to hide the beastes bo∣wels within their owne. And although that at that time semed, to be an outragious dede, vnto them, that were of a more mylde and gentyll courage: yet was it generally allo∣wed, and all by reason of custome and com∣moditie. Yet were they not so content. For they went from the sleinge of noysom wylde beastes, to kylle the harmeles beastes, and suche as dyd none hurte at all. They waxed cruell euery where vppon the poore shepe, a beaste without fraude or gyle. They slewe the haare, for none other offence, but bicause he was a good fatte dysshe of meate to fede vppon. Nor they forbare not to kyl the tame oxe, whiche hadde a longe season, with his

soore labour nourysshed the vnkynde house∣holde. They spared no kynde of beastis, of foules, nor of fysshes. Yea and the tyranny of glottony went so ferforth, that there was no beaste any where, that coude be sure from the crueltie of man. Yea & custome persuaded this also, that it semed no cruelnes at all to sice any maner of beast, what so euer it was, so they a••steyned from manslaughter. Now perauenture it lyeth in our power to kepe out 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that they entre not vpō the maners of men, in lyke maner as it lyeth in our power to kepe out the see, that it breke not in vpon vs•• But whā the see is ones broken in, it pas∣seth our power to restreyn it within any boū∣d••s. So eyther of them both ones let in, they wyll not be ruled, as we wolde, but ronnne forthe heedlonge whither so euer theyr owne rag•• cari••••h them. And so after that menne had bene exercised with suche begynnynges to slaughter, wrath anon entysed man to set vpon man, eyther with staffe, or with stone, ••••••lles with his fyste. For as yet, I thynke they vsed none other weapons. And nowe had they lerned by the kyllynge of beastes, that man also myght sone and easily be slayn with lyttell labour. But this cruelnes re∣ma••ned betwy••te singular persones, so that

yet was there no great nombre of men, that fought to gether, but as it chanced one man ageynste an other. And besyde this, there was no smalle colour of equitie, if a manne slewe his ennemie: ye and shortely after, it was a great preyse to a man, so slee a violēt and a mischeuous manne, and to rydde hym out of the worlde, suche dyuelysshe and cru∣elle caytyues, as men saye Cacus and Bu∣siris were. For we see playnely, that for su∣che causes, Hercules was greatly preysed. And in proces of tyme, many assembled to take parte to gether, eyther as affinitie, or as neyghbourheed, or kynred bounde them. And that that is nowe robberye, was then warre. And they soughte then with stones, or with stakes, a lyttell burned at the endes. A lyttell ryuer, a rocke, or suche other lyke thynge, chaunsynge to be betwene theym, made an ende of theyr battayle.

In the meane seson, whiles fiersnes by vse increaseth, whyles wrath is growen great, and ambition hotte and vehement: by inge∣nious crafte, they arme theyr furious vio∣lence. They diuise harneys, suche as it is, to fense them with. They inuente weapons to distroy theyr ennemyes with. Thus nowe by fewe and fewe, nowe with greatter com∣pany,

and nowe armed they begyn to fighte. Nor to this manifeste madnes they forgette not to gyue honour. For they cal it Bellum, that is to sey, a fayre thyng: ye and they re∣pute it a vertuous dede, if a man with the ieoperdie of his owne lyfe, manlye resiste and defende from the violence of his enmies, his wyfe, chyldren, beastis, and householde. And by lyttell and lyttell, malice grewe so great, with the high estemyng of other thin∣ges, that one citie beganne to sende defiance and make warre to an other, countreye a∣geynste countrey, and royalme ageynste ro∣yalme. And though the thyng of it selfe was thē most cruel: yet al this while there remai∣ned in thē certayn tokēs, wherby they myght be knowē for men. For such goodis as by vi∣olēce were taken awey: were asked and requi¦red ageyne by an heralde at armes, the god∣dis were called to wytnes, ye and whan they were ranged in battayle, they wolde reason the matter, er they fought. And in the bat∣taylle they vsed but homely weapons, nor they vsed neyther gyle nor disceyte, but one∣ly strength. It was not lefull for a man to stryke his ennemie, tyll the signe of batayle was gyuen. Nor it was not lefull to fyghte after the sownynge of the retreate. And for

conclusion, they fought more to shewe theyr manlynes, and for preyse, than they coueted to slee. Nor all this whyle they armed them not, but ageynste straungers, the whiche they called hostes, as they had ben hospites, their guestis. Of this rose empires, of the whiche there was neuer none yet in any nation, but it was gotten with the greatte shedynge of mans bloudde. And sith that tyme there hath folowed continuall course of warre, whiles one eftesones laboureth to put an other out of his empire, and to set hym selfe in.

After all this, when the empyres camme ones in to theyr handes, that were most vn∣gratious of all other: they made warre vp∣pon who so euer pleased theym: nor they were not in greattest peryll and daunger of warre, that had moste deserued to be punys∣••hed, but they that by fortune hadde gotten great riches. And now they made not warre to gette preyse and fame, but to gette the vile mucke of the worlde, or els some other thynge far worse then that.

I thynke not the contrarye, but that the greatte wyse manne Pythagoras, ment these thynges: when he by a propre diuise of phi∣losophie, feared the vnlerned multitude of people from the sleinge of sely bea••tis. For

he perceyued, hit shoulde at lengthe come to passe, that he whiche (by none iniurie pro∣uoked) was accustomed to spille the bloud of a harmeles beaste, wolde in his anger, beynge prouoked by iniurie, not feare to slee a man.

Warre, what other thyng els is it, than a cō¦mon manslaughter of many men to g••ther, & a robbery? the which, the farther it spraw∣leth abrode, the more mischeuous it is. But many grosse gentylmen nowe a dayes laugh merily at these thinges, as though they were the dreames and dotynges of schole men, the whiche sauynge the shappe, haue no p••ynte of manhoode, yet seme they in theyr owne conceyte to be goodis. And yet of those be∣gynnynges, we see we be rounne so farre in madnesse, that we doo noughte elles alle oure lyfe dayes. We warre continual∣lye, nation with nation, royalme with roy∣alme, cytie with cytie, Prince with prince, people with people, ye and (hit that the heathen people confesse to be a wyckedde thynge) cousyne with cousyne, alyaunce, with alyaunce, brother with brother, the sonne with the father, ye and that I esteme more cruelle thanne all these thynges, a Christen manne ageynste an other manne.

And yet farthermore, I wolle saye, that I am very lothe to doo, whiche is a thynge moste cruell of all, one christen man with an other christen manne. Oh blyndenesse of mannes mynde, at those thynges no man marueyleth, no manne abhorrethe theym. There be some that reioyce at theym, and preyse theym aboue the moone: and the thynge whiche is more thenne dy••yllyshe, they calle a holye thynge. Olde menne croked for age, make warre, pryestes make warre, monkes gone forthe to warre, yea and with a thynge so dyuyllysshe we myn∣gle Christ. The batayles raunged, they en∣countre the one the other, bearynge be∣fore theym the signe of the Crosse, why∣the thynge alone myghte at the l••a••te wyse admonysshe vs, by what meanes it shoulde become christen men to ouercomme.

But we ronne heedlonge eche to dystroye o∣her, euen from that heuenly sacrifyce of the auter, wherby is represented that perfecte, and ineffable knyt••ynge to gether of al chri∣sten men. And of so wicked a thynge, we make Christe bothe auctour and wyttenes. Where is the kyngedome of the dyuelle, yf hit be not in Warre? Why drawe we Christe into warre? with whome a brothell

howse agreeth more then warre? Sayncte Paule disdayneth, that there shoulde be any so great discorde amonge christen men, that they shoulde nede any iudge to discusse the matter betwene them. What and he shoulde come and beholde vs nowe through all the worlde, warrynge for euerye lyghte and trifelynge cause, stryuyng more cruelly then euer dydde any hethen people, and more cru∣elly then any barbarous people. Yea and ye shall see it done by the auctoritie, exhorta∣tions, and furtheringes of those, that re∣present Christe, the prince of peace, and ve∣ry byshoppe, that all thinges knytteth to∣gether by peace: and those that salute the people with good lucke of peace. Nor it is not vnknowen to me, what these vnlerned people, wyll say (a good whyle sens) ageinst me in this matter, the whose wynnynges a∣ryse of the common yuels. They saye thus. We make warre ageynste our wylles: for we be constrayned by the vngratious dedes of other. We make warre but for our right. And if there come any hurte therof, thanke theym that be causers of it. But lette these men holde theyr tongues a whyle, and I shal after in place conuenient, a••oyde all theyr cauilations: and plucke of that false visour,

wherwith we hyde all our malice.

But firste as I haue aboue compared man with warre, that is to say, the creature most demure, with a thynge mooste outragious, to the intent that cruelnes myght the better be perceyued: So wyll I compare warre and peace to gether, the thynge moste wret∣ched, and mo••te myschieffull, with the beste and moste welthy thynge that is: And so at laste shall appere, howe greatte madnes it is, with so greatte ruffelynge, with so great laboures, with suche intollerable expen∣ces, with so many daungers and extreme perylles, with so many calamities, affectio∣nately to desyre warre: where as agrement myght be bought with a farre lesse price.

Fyrste of all, what in all this worlde is more sweter or better then amitie or loue? Truely nothynge. And I pray you, what o∣ther thynge is peace then amitie and loue a∣monge many men? lyke as warre on the o∣ther side is nought els but discention and de∣bate of many men together. And surely the propretie of good thynges is suche, that the broder they bene spredde, the more profyte and commoditie cometh of them. Farther if the loue of one singular person with an other be so swete and delectable: howe great shuld

the felicitie be, if realme with realme, & nati¦on with nation were coupled together, with the bande of amitie and loue? On the tother syde, ••he nature of yuelle thynges is suche, that the farther they sprawle abrode, the more worthy they are to be called yuell, as they be in ded. Then if it be a wreched thing, if it be an vngratious thynge, that one man armed shuld fight with an other, how moche more miserable, how moch more mischiuous is it, that the selfe same thynge shoulde be done with ••o many thousandes to gether? By loue and peace the small thynges increa••e and waye great, by discorde and debate the great thynges decaye and come to nought. Peace is the mother and nource of all good thynges. Warre sodaynly and at ones ouer∣throweth, destroyeth, and vtterly fordoth euery thynge that is pleasant and fayre, and bryngeth in amonge men a monstre of alle mischeuous thynges.

In the tyme of peace (none other wyse than as vere, the lusty spryngynge tyme, shulde shewe and shyne in mens busynesses) the feldes are tylled, the gardeyns and or∣chardes fresshely florysshe, the beastes pa∣sture meryly, gaye manours in the contreye are edyfyed, the townes are buylded, where

as nede is, reparations are done, the buil∣dynges are highted, and augmented, ryches increaceth, plesures are nourished, the lawes are executed, the common welthe floury∣sheth, religion is feruente, ryghte rayneth, gentylnesse is vsed, craftis men are busylye exercised, the poore mens gaynes is more plentifull, the welthynes of the ryche men is more gay and goodly, the studies of most honeste lernynges florishen, youthe is well taughte, the aged folkes haue quiette and reste, maidens are luckely maryed, mothers are praysed for brynginge forth of chyldren like to their progenitours, the good men pro¦spere and do well, and the yuell men doo lesse offence.

¶But as soone as the cruel tempest of war cometh on vs,* 1.1 good lorde, howe greatte a floud of mischeues, occupieth, ouerfloweth and drowneth all to gether. The fayre hir∣des of beastes are dryuen a way, the goodly corne is trodden downe and distroyed, the good husbande men are slayne, the villages are burned vp, the moste welthy cities, that haue florished so many wynters, with that one storme are ouerthrowen, distroyed, and brought to naughte: so moche more redyer & prompter men are to do hurte th•••• good.

The good citezens are robbed and spoyled of theyr goodes by cursed theues and mour∣therers. Euery place is ful of feare, of way∣lynge, complaynynge, & lamentynge. The craftes men stande idell: the poore men must eyther dye for hunger, or fall to stealynge. The ryche men eyther they stande and so∣rowe for theyr goodes, that be pluckte and snatched frome theym, orels they stande in great doute to lose such goodes as they haue lefte theym: so that they be on euerye syde wo begonne. The maydens, eyther they be not maryed at all, or els if they be maryed, theyr mariages are sorowfull and lamenta∣table. Wyues beynge destitute of theyr hus∣bandes, lye at home withoute anye frute of chyldren, the lawes are layde asyde, gentyl∣nes is laughed to scorne, ryghte is clene ex∣iled, religion is sette at nought, halowed and vnhalowed thynges al is one, youthe is cor∣rupted with al maner of vices, the olde folke they wayle and wepe, and wysshe them selfe out of the worlde, there is no honour gyuen vnto the study of good letters. Finally there is no tonge can telle, the harme and mischief that we feele in warre.

¶Perchaunce warre myghte be the better suffred, if it made vs but only wretched and

nedy, but it maketh vs vngratious, and also ful of vnhappynes: and I thynke Peace lyke wyse shulde be moche made of, and it were but onely bycause it maketh vs more welthy and better in our lyuynge. Alas there be to many all redy, ye and mo then to many mis∣chiues and yuelles, with the whiche the wret¦ched lyfe of man (whether he wyll or no) is continuallye vexed, turmented, and vtterly consumed.

¶It is nere hande two thousande yere sithe the phisitians had knowlege of thre hundred dyuers notable sickenesses by name, besyde other small sickenesses and newe, as daylye sprynge amonge vs, and be syde aege also, whiche is of it selfe a sikenes ineuitable.

¶We rede, that in one place whole cities haue ben destroyed with erthe quakes. We rede also, that in an other place there haue ben cities al to gether brente with lightning: howe in an other place whole regions haue ben swallowed vp with openyng of the erth, townes by vndermyninge haue fallen to the grounde: so that I nede not here to remem∣bre what a great multitude of men are day∣ly destroyed by dyuers chaunces, whiche be not regarded, by cause they happe so often: as sodayne breakynge out of the see, and of

greatte flouddes, fallynge downe of hylles and houses, poyson, wylde beastes, meate, drynke, and slepe. One hath ben strangled with drynkynge of a heare in a draughte of mylke, an other hath ben choked with a littel grape stone, an other with a fishe bone styc∣kynge in his throte. There hath bene, that sodeyne ioy hath kylled out of hande: for it is lesse wonder of them that dye for vehe∣ment sorowe. Besyde all this, what mortal pestilence se we in euery place. There is no parte of the worlde, that is not subiecte to peryl and daunger of mans lyfe, whiche life of it selfe also is moste fugitiue. So many∣folde mischaunces and yuels assayle man on euerye syde, that not withoute cause Homer dyd say: Man was the most wretched of al creatures lyuynge.

¶But for as moche these myschaunces can not lyghtly be eschewed, nor they happe not through our faute, they make vs but onelye wreched, and not vngratious withall. What a pleasure is it than for them that be subiecte all redy to so many miserable chaunces, wil∣lyngely to seke and procure them selfe a no∣ther myschefe more than they hadde before, as thoughe they yet wanted myserye? Ye they procure not a lyghte yuell, but suche an

yuell that is worse than al the other, so mis∣chiffull, that it alone passethe all the other: so aboundante, that in it selfe alone is com∣prehended all vngratiousnesse? so pestilente, that it maketh vs all a lyke wicked as wre∣ched, it maketh vs full of all misery, and yet not worthy to be pitied.

¶Nowe go farther, and with al these thyn∣ges consider, that the commodites of Peace spreaden them selfe mooste farre and wyde, and pertayne vnto many men. In warre if there happen any thynge luckely (but o good lorde, what may we saye happeth well and luckely in warre?) hit perteyneth to verye fewe: and to theym, that are vnworthye to haue it. The prosperitie of one is the dis∣truction of an other. The inrychyng of one, is the spoyle and robbynge of an other. The triumphe of one, is the lamentable mourning of an other, so that as the infelicite is bytte•• and sharpe, the felicite is cruell and bloudy. Howe be it other whyle bothe parties we∣pen accordynge to the prouerbe, Victoria Cadmaea, Cadmus uictorie, where boothe parties repented. And I wotte not whether it came euer so happely to passe in warre, that he that had victorye, dyd not repent him of his enterprise, if he were a good man.

¶Than seinge Peace is the thynge aboue all other moste best & most plesant, & contra∣riewyse warre, the thynge moste vngratious and wretched of all other: shall we thynke those men to be in theyr ryghte myndes, the whiche when they may opteyne Peace with lyttell busynes and labour, wol rather pro∣cure wa••re with so greate labour, and moste diffycultye?

¶Fyrste of all consider, howe lothelye a thynge the rumour of warre is, when hit is fyrste spoken of. Then howe enuious a thing hit is vnto a prince, whyles with often demes & taxes he pilleth his subiectes. What a busynesse hath he to make and entreteyne frendes to helpe hym, what a businesse to procure bendes of strangers, and to hyre sowdyars?

* 1.2¶What expences and labours must he make in settynge forth his Nauey of shyppes, in buildynge and repayrynge of castelles and fortresses, in prepayrynge and apparaylyng of his tentes and pauillions, in framynge, makyng, and caryenge of ingyns, gounnes, armour, weapons, baggage, cartes, and vi∣tayle? what greate labour is spente, in ma∣kynge of bulwarkes, in castynge of dyches, in dyggynge of mines, in kepynge of wat∣ches,

in kepynge of arrayes, and in exercy∣synge of wepons? I passe ouer the feare they be in, I speake not of the iminent danger and peryll that hangeth ouer theyr heedes (for wh••t thynge in warre is not to be fea∣red?) what is he that can reken all the in∣commodious lyfe, that the mooste folyshe sowdiours suffern in the felde? And for that worthy to endure worse,* 1.3 in that they woll suffer it wyllyngely. Theyr meate is so yll, that an oxe of Cypres wolde be loth to eate hit: they haue but lyttell slepe, nor yet that at theyr owne pleasure. Theyr tentes on euery syde are open on the wynde. What a tent? no no, they muste all the day longe, be it hotte or colde, wete or drye, stande in the open ayre, slepe on the bare grounde, stande in theyr harneis. They muste suffre hunger, thruste, colde, hete, duste, shoures, they muste be obedient to theyr capitaynes, sometymes they be clapt on the pate with a warder or a trouncheon, so that there is no bondage so vyle as the bondage of sodiours.

¶Be syde al this, at the sorowful sygne gy∣uen to fyght, they muste ronne hedlonge to deathe: for eyther they muste flee cruellye, or be slayne wrechedly. So many sorowful labours must they take in hande, that they

may brynge to passe that thynge, whiche is mooste wretched of al other. With so ma∣ny great miseries we must fyrste afflicte and greue our owne selfe, that we mowe afflicte and greue other.

¶Nowe if we wolde call this matter to ac∣cumpte•• and iustely reken, how moche warre woll coste, and howe moche peace, surely we shall fynde that peace may be gotte and op∣teyned with the tenthe parte of the cares, la∣bours, greffes, perils, expences, and spil∣lynge of bloudde, with whiche the warre is procured. So greate a company of men, to theyr extreme perilles, ye leade out of the re¦alme to ouerthrowe and distroye some one towne: and with the labour of the selfe same men, and without any peryll at all, an other towne moche more nobler and goodly, might be newe edified and buylded. But you saye, you wil ho••rt & greue your ennemy: lo euen that doing is agaynst humanytie. Neuerthe∣les this I wolde ye shuld cōsider, that ye can not hurt & greue your ennemies, but ye muste first gretly hurt your owne people. And it semeth a point of a madde man, to enterprise where he is sure & certayne of so great hurte & damage, & is vncertayne, whiche way the

chaunce of warre wyll turne.

¶But admytte, that eyther folyshenesse, or wrathe, or ambition, or couetousnes, or out∣ragious crueltie, or elles (whiche I thynke more lyke) the furies sente from helle, shulde rauyshe and drawe the hethen people to this madnes. Yet from whence commeth it in to our myndes, that one christen man shoulde drawe his weapon to bathe it in an other chri¦sten mans bloudde? It is called Parricide,* 1.4 if the one brother slee the other. And yet is a christen man narre ioyned to an other, then is one brother to another: except the bondes of nature be stronger then the bondes of Christ. What abominable thinge than is it to se them almoste continually fyghtynge amonge them selfe, the whiche are the inhabytantes of one house the churche, whiche reioyce and saye, that they all be the membres of one body, and that haue one heed, whiche trewelye is Christ, they haue al one father in heuen, they are all taughte and comforted by one ••olye spirite: they professe the relygion of Christe all vnder one maner: they are all ••edemed with Christes bloud: they are al newe borne at the holy fonte, they vse al lyke sacramen∣tis, they be al soudiours vnder one capitaine,

they are all fedde with one heuenly breade: they drynke all of one spirituall cuppe, they haue one common ennemy the dyuell: fynal∣ly they be all called to one enheritance? Where be they so many sacramentes of per∣fecte concorde? Where be the innumerable teachynges of peace? There is one specyall precepte, whiche Christe called his, that is Charitie.* 1.5 And what thynge is soo repug∣nante to Charite as warre? Christe salu∣ted his disciples with the blessed lucke of peace. Vnto his disciples he gaue nothynge saue peace, sauynge peace he lefte them no∣thynge. In those holy prayers, he specy∣ally prayed the father of heuen, that in lyke maner as he was one with the father, so al his, that is to saye christen men, shoulde be one with hym. Lo here you maye perceye a thynge more then peace, more then amitie, more than concorde.

¶Salomon bare the figure of Christe: for Salomon in the hebrewe tonge sowneth pea¦sible or pacyfull. Hym god wolde haue to builde his temple.

¶At the byrthe of Chryste the angels pro∣claymed nother warre nor tryumphes, but peace they sange. And before his byrthe the prophet Dauid prophesied thus af hym:

Et factus est in Pace locus eius, that is to saye, His dwellynge place is made in peace.

¶Serche all the hole lyfe of Christe,* 1.6 and ye shal neuer fynde thinge, that brethe not of peace, that sowneth not amitie, that sauou∣reth not of charytye. And bycause he per∣ceyued peace coude not well be kepte, except men wolde vtterly despise all tho thynges, for whiche the worlde so gredelye fyghteth, he commaunded, that we shulde of hym lerne to be meke. He calleth them blessed and hap∣py, that setteth naughte by ryches, for those he calleth poore in spirite. Blessed be they, that despise the pleasures of this worlde, the whiche he calleth mourners. And them blessed he calleth, that paciently suffre them felfe, to be put out of theyr possessions, kno∣winge that here in this worlde they are but as outlawes: and the very trewe countrey & possessiō of godly creatures is in heuē. He cal¦leth them blessed, whiche deseruynge well of all men, are wrongefully blamed, and yll afflicted. He forbade that any man shoulde resyste yuell. Brefelye, as all his doctryne commaundeth sufferaunce and loue, soo all his lyfe teacheth nothynge els but mekenes. So he reigned, so he warred, so he ouercam, so he triumphed.

¶Nor the appostols, that had sucked in to theym the pure spirite of Christe, and were blessedly dronke with that newe muste of the holy gooste, preched nothynge but mekenesse and peace. What do all the epistols of Paule sounde in euery place but peac••, but longa∣minite, but Charitie? What speaketh saynct Iohn̄, what reherseth he so ofte, but loue? What other thynge dyd Peter? What other thynge dydde all the true christen writers? From whens then cometh al this ruffling of warres amonges the chyldren of peace? Thynke ye it a fable, that Chryste calleth him selfe a vyne tree, and hisen the branches? Who dyd euer see one branche fyghte with an other? Is it in vayne: that Paule so ofte wrote, The churche to be none other thyng, than one bodye compacte to gether of dy∣ners membres, cleuynge to one heed, Christ? Who euer sawe the eie fyght with y^e hande, or the bealy with the fote? In this vniuersall body, compacte of all those vnlyke thynges, there is a gremente. In the bodye of a beaste, one membre is in peace with an other, & eche membre vseth not the propertie therto gyuen, ••or it self alone, but for the profite of al the other membres. So that if there come any good to any one mēbre alone, it helpeth

all the holle body. And may the compacti∣on or knyttynge of Nature doo more in the body of a beaste, that shortly muste perishe, than the couplynge of the holye go••te in the mysticall and immortall body of the church? Do we frustrately byd this prayer taughte vs by Christe:* 1.7 Good lorde euen as thy wyl is fulfylled in heuen, so let it be fulfylled in the erthe. In that citie of heuen is concorde and peace mooste perfecte. And Christe wolde his churche to be none other, then a heuenly people in erthe, as nere as myghte be after the maner of them that are in heuen, euer labouring & making haast to go thyther, and all wayes hauynge theyr mynde theron.

¶Nowe go to, lette vs imagen, that there shoulde come some newe guest out of the Lu∣narie cities, where Empedocles dwelleth, orels out of the innumerable worldes, that Democritus forged, in to this worlde, desi∣ring to know what the inhabitantes do here. And when he were instructed of euery thyng, it should at laste be ••olde him, that besydes al other, there is one creature maruaylousely mingled, of body like to brute bestis, & of soul like vnto god. And it shuld also be tolde hym, that this creture is so noble, that tough he be here an outlawe out of his owne countrey,

yet are all other beastes at his commaunde∣mente, the whiche creature through his he∣uenly begynnyg inclyneth alway to thynges heuenly and immortall. And that god eter∣nall loued this creature so well, that where as he coude neyther by the gyftes of nature, nor by y^e strong reasōes of philosophy atteine vnto that whiche he so feruently desired, he sente hyther his onely begotten sonne, to the intente to teache this creature a newe kinde of lernynge. Then as soone as this newe guest had perceyued well the hole maner of Christes lyfe and preceptes, wolde desyre to stande in some highe place, from whence he myghte beholde that that he had harde. And whan he shulde se al other creatures soberly lyue accordynge to theyr kynde, & beinge led by the lawes and course of nature, desyred nothynge but euen as nature wolde: and shulde se this one speciall creature man gy∣uen ryottously to tauerne hauntynge, to vile lucre, to byinge and sellynge, choppynge & chaungynge, to braulyng and fyghtynge one with another, trowe ye that he wolde not thynke that any of the other creatures were man, of whome he harde so moche of before, rather than he that is in dede man? Than if he that hadde instructed hym afore, wolde

shewe hym, whiche creature is man: nowe wolde he loke about to se if he coude spie the christen flocke and companye, the whiche fo∣lowynge the ordynaunce of that heuenly te∣cher Christe, shoulde exhibite to hym a fy∣gure or shappe of the aungelycall cytye. Thynke ye he wolde not rather iudge chri∣stians to dwell in anye other place, then in those countrayes, wherin we se so great su∣perfluite, riotte, voluptuousenesse, pryde, ty∣ranny, discorde, braulynges, fyghtynges, warres, ruffelynges, ye and breffelye to speake, a greater puddell of al those thinges that Christe reproueth: then amonge Tur∣kes or Saracens? From whence then cre∣peth this pestilence in amonge christen peo∣ple? Doutles this mischefe also is come in by lyttel and littel, lyke as manye mo other be, ere men be ware of them. For trewlye euery mischiefe crepeth by lyttel and lyttell vppon the good maners of men, or els vn∣der the colowr of goodnesse hit is sodeynlye receyued.

¶So then fyrste of all lernynge and coun∣nynge* 1.8 crepte in as a thynge verye mete to confounde heretykes, whiche defende theyr opinions with the doctryne of philosophers, poetis, and oratours. And surely at the be∣gynnynge

of our fayth, christen men dyd not lerne those thynges, but suche as parauen∣ture had lerned theym, before they knewe what Christe ment, they turned the thynge that they had lerned all redy, in to good vse.

¶Elouqence of tonge was at the beginnyng dissembled more thā dispised, but at length it was openly approued. After that vnder co∣lour of confoundynge heretikes, came in an ambicious pleasure of braulynge dispitions, whiche hath broughte in to the churche of Chri••te no small mischife. At lengthe the matter wente so farre forthe, that Aristotell was al to gether resceiued into the middel of diuinitie, & so receyued, that his auctoritie is almoste reputed holyer than the auctoritie of Christe. For if Christe spake anye thynge that dyd lyttell agree with our lyfe, by inter¦pretation of Aristotell it was lefull to make it serue theyr purpose. But if any do neuer so lyttell repugne agaynste the hygh dyuiny∣tie of Aristoteli, he is quickelye with clap∣pynge of handes driuen out of the place. For of hym we haue lerned, that the felycytie of man is vnperfecte, excepte he haue bothe the good gyftes of bodye and of fortune. Of hym we haue lerned, that no common weale may florishe, in whiche all thinges are com∣mune.

And we indeuour our selfe to glewe faste to gether the decretes of ••his man and the doctryne of Christe: which is as likely a thynge as to myngle fyre and water toge∣ther. And a gobbet we haue receyued of the ciuell lawes, bycause of the equitie, that se∣meth to be in them: And to thende they shuld the better serue our purpose, we haue as nere as may be, writhed and plyed the doctrine of the gospell to them. Nowe by the ciuile lawe it is leful for a man to defende violence with violence, and eache to pursue for his ryght. Those lawes approue bienge and sel¦lynge: they allowe vsury, so it be measura∣ble, they praise warre as a noble thynge, so it be iuste. Fynally al the doctryne of Christ is so defiled with the lernynge of Logiciens, sophi••ters, astronomers, oratours, poe∣tis, philosophers, laweyrs, and gentyles, that a man shall spende the mooste parte of his lyfe, ere he may haue any leysure to ser∣che holy scripture, to the whiche when a man at laste cometh, he muste come infecte with so manye worldly opinions, that eyther he muste be offended with Christes doctrynes, or els he muste applie them to the mynde & doctryne of them that he hath lerned before. And this thynge is so moch approued, that it

is nowe a heynous dede, if a man presume to study holy scripture, whiche hath not no∣silled hym self vp to the harde eares in those trifils, or rather sophestries of Aristotle. As thoughe Christis doctrine were suche, that it were not lefull for all men to knowe hit, orels that it coude by any meanes agre with the wysedome of philosophers. Besyde this we admitted at the begynnynge of our feyth some honour, whiche afterwarde we clay∣med as of duite. Than we resceyued riches, but that was to distrybute to releue poore men, whiche afterwarde we turned to our owne vse. And why not, sith we haue lerned by the lawe ciuile, that the verye order of chari••e is, that euery man muste fyrste pro∣uide for hym selfe? Nor there lacke no co∣lours to cloke this mischiefe: fyrste hit is a good dede to prouide for our children: and it is right that we forsee how to lyue in age. Finally, why shulde we, say they, gyue our goodes away, if we come by theym with∣out fraude? By these grices hit is by lyt∣tell and lyttell come to passe, that he is ta∣ken for the mooste best man, that hath moste ryches: nor neuer was there more honour gyuen to ryches amonge the hethen people, then is at this daye amonge the christen peo∣ple.

For what thynge is there eyther spiri∣tuall or temporall, that is not done with greatte shewe of riches? And hit semedde a thynge agreable with those ornamentis, if christen men had some greate iurisdicion vn∣der theym. Nor there wanted not suche, as gladly submitted theym lelse. Albeit at the begynnynge it was agaynste theyr wylles, and scantly wolde they receyue hit. And yet with moche worke, they resceyued it so, that they were contente with the name and tytle only: the profite therof they gladly gaue vn¦to other men. At the laste by lyttell and lyt∣tell it came to passe, that a byshop thoughte hym selfe no bishoppe, excepte he had some temporal lordship withal. An abbot thought him self of smal auctorite, if he had not wher with to play the lordly syre. And in conclusi¦on, we blushed neuer a dele at the matter, we wyped awey al shamfastnes, & shoft a side al the harres of comlynes. And what euer abu¦sion was vsed amonge the hethen people, were it couetousnes, ambition, riotte, pompe, or pride, or tyranny, the same we folowe, in the same we matche theym, ye and farre passe theym. And to passe ouer the lyghter thinges for the while, I pray you, was there euer warre amonge the hethen peple so long

continually, or more cruellye, than amonge christen people? What stormy romblynges, what violente braydes of warres, what tea¦rynge of leages, and what pitious slaugh∣ters of men haue we sene our selfe wi••hin these fewe yeres? What nation hath not fought and skyrmoushed with an other? And then we go and curse the Turke, and what canne be a more plesante syghte to the Turkes, then to beholde vs dayly eche sle∣ynge other?

¶••erxes doted, when he ledde oute of his owne countreye that huge multitude of peo∣ple to make warre vppon the Grekes. Trowe ye, he was not madde, when he wrot letters to the mountayne called Atho, thret∣nynge that the hylle shulde repente it, except he obeyed his luste•• And the same ••erxes commaunded also the see to be beaten, by∣cause it was somewhat rough when he shuld haue sailed ouer.

¶Who wol denye but Alexander the great was madde also? He the yonge god wished, that there were manye worldes, the whiche he myght conquere. So greatte a fe••er of vayne glorye had enbraced his yonge lustye courage. And yet these same men, the whi∣che Seneca doubted not to call madde the∣ues,

warred after a gentyller facion then we do, they were more feythfull of theyr promise in warre, nor they vsed not so mis∣chiuo••s ingins in warre, nor suche craftes and subtelties, nor they warred not for soo lyghte causes as we christen men do. They reioysed to au••unce and enryche suche pro∣uynces as they hadde conquered by warre, and the rude people, that lyued lyke wylde beastis withoute lawes, lernynge, or good maners, they taughte them boothe ciuyle condicions, and craftis, where by they might lyue lyke men. In coūtreys that were not inhabited with people, they builded cities, and made them bothe fayre and profitable. And the places that were not very sure, they fensed for sauegarde of the people with brid¦ges, bankes, bulwarkes, and with a thou∣sande suche other commodities they holpe the lyfe of man. So that then it was ryght expedient to be ouer come. Ye and howe manye thynges rede we, that were eyther wysely done, or soberly spoken of theym in the myddes of theyr warres. As for those thynges, that are done in christen mens war¦res they are more fylthy & cruell than is con¦ueniente here to reherse. More ••uer loke what was worst in the hethen peoples war∣res,

in that we folow them, ye we passe them.

¶But nowe it is a worlde to here, by what meanes we meyntayne this our so gret mad¦nes. Thus they reson. If it had not ben leful by noo meanes to make warre, surely god wolde neuer ••aue benne the auctour to the Iewes to make warre agaynst theyr enne∣mes. Wel sayd, but we must adde herevnto, that the Iewes neuer made warre amonge them selfe, but ageynste strangers and wic∣ked men. We, christen men, fyght with chri∣sten men. Diuersite of relygiō caused the Ie¦wes to fyghte agaynst theyr ennemyes: for theyr ennemyes worshypte not god as they dyd. We make warre often tymes for a lit∣tell chyldyshe angre, or for hunger of mo∣ney, or for thyrste of glory, orels for fylthy mede. The Iewes fought by the command∣ment of god, we make warre to auenge the grefe and displeasure of our mynde. And ne¦theles if men wol so moch leane to the exam¦ple of the Iewes, why do we not thā in like maner vse circumcision? Why do we not sacri¦fice with the bloude of shepe and other bea∣s••is? Why do we not absteyne from swynes fleshe? Why doth not eche of vs wedde ma∣ny wy••es? Syth we abhorre those thynges, why dothe the example of war please vs ••o

moch? Why do we here folow the bare lettre that kylleth? It was permitted the Iewes to make war, but so lyke wise as they were suffred to depart from their wiues, doubtles bycause of theyr harde & frowarde maners. But after Christ cōmanded the sworde to be put vp, it is vnleful for christen men, to make any other war but that which is the most fai¦rest war of al, with the most egre & fierce en¦nemyes of the church, with affection of mo∣ney, with wrath, with ambition, with drede of death. These be our philisteins, these be∣our Nabughodosor, these be our Moabitis and Ammonitis, with the whiche it behoueth vs to haue no truce. With these we muste con¦tinuallye fighte, vntylle (our ennemies be∣inge vtterly vanquished) we may be in qui∣ette, for except we may ouercome them, there is no mā that may atteine to any true peace, nother with him self, nor yet w^t none other. For this war alone is cause of true peace. He that ouercometh in this battaile, woll make war with no man liuing. Nor I regarde not the interp̄taciō, y^t some men make of the two swordes to signifie either power spiritual & tēporal. Whā Christ suffred Peter to erre pur¦posely, y^t after he was cōmāded to put vp his sword, no man shuld doubt, but y^t warre was

forboden, whiche before semed to be lefull. But Peter (say they) fought. Trewe it is, Peter foughte, he was yet but a Iewe, and had not the spirite of a very christen man. He foughte not for his landes, or for any suche tytles of landes as we do, nor yet for his owne lyfe, but for his maysters lyfe. And fynally, he fought, the whiche within a while after forsoke his mayster. Nowe if men woll nedes folowe the example of Pe∣ter that foughte, why mowe they not as well folowe the example of hym forsakyng his mayster? And thoughe Peter throughe ••ympell affection erred, yet dyd his maister rebuke hym. For els, if Christe dyd allowe suche maner of defence, as some mooste fo∣l••••••ely do interpretate, why dothe bothe all the lyfe and doctryne of Christe preache none other thynge but suffraunce? Why sent he forth his disciples ageynste tyrantes ar∣med with nothynge els but with a walkyng staffe and a scrippe. If that sworde, whiche Christe commaunded his disciples to selle theyr ••otes to bie, be moderat defēce against persecutours, lyke as some men do not onely wyckedlye but also blyndlye interpretate, why did the martyrs neuer vse that defence? But (saye they) the lawe of nature com∣maundeth,

it is approued by the lawes, and allowed by custome, that we ought to put of from vs violence by violence, and that eche of vs shulde defende his lyfe, and eke his money, when the money (as Hesiodus saith) is as leese as the lyfe. All this I graunte, but yet grace, the lawe of Christe, that is of more effecte than all these thynges, com∣maundeth vs, that we shulde not speake yll to them, that speake shrewedly to vs: that we shulde do wel to them, that do yll to vs, and to theym that take aweye parte of our possessions, we shoulde gyue the whole: and that we shulde also pray for them, that ima∣gin our dethe. But these thynges (sey they) apperteyne to the apostolles, ye they apper∣teine to the vniuersall people of Christe, & to the hole body of Christes churche, that must nedes be a whole and a perfecte bodye, all though in theyr gyftes one membre i•• more excellent than an other. To them the doc∣trine of Christe apperteyneth not, that hope not to haue rewarde with Christe. Let them fight for money and lordshyps, that lawghe to scorne the sayeng of Christ: Blessed be the poore men in spirite: that is to say, be they poore or ryche, blessed be they, that coueted no riches in this worlde. They that put all

their felicite in these richessis, they fight glad¦ly to defende their life, but they be those that vnderstand not this life to be rather a dethe, nor they perceyue not, that euerlastynge lyfe is prepared for good men. Nowe they lay a¦gainst vs, diuers byshops of Rome, the whi∣che haue ben both auctours and aydours of warring. True it is, some such there haue bē, but they were of late, & in such tyme as the doctrine of Christ waxed colde. Ye & they be very fewe in cōparison of the holy fathers that were before them, which with their wri¦tinges {per}swade vs to flee war. Why are these fewe exāples most in mynde? Why turne we our eyes from Christ to men? And why had we rather folowe the vncertaine examples, thā the auctorite that is sure & certayne? For doubtles the bishops of Rome were mē. And it may be righte well, that they were eyther foolys, or vngratious caytiues. And yet we ••inde not that any of them approued, that we shuld styl continually war after this faciō as we do. Which thinge I coude w^t argumentis proue, if I lifted to digresse & tarie thervpō.

¶Sayncte Barnarde preysed warriours, but he so praysed them, that he condemned all the maner of our warfare. And yet why shulde the sayenge of sainct Barnarde,

or the dyspitiō of Thomas of Alquine mo••e me rather then the doctryne of Christe, whi∣che commaundeth, that we shulde in no wyse resyste iuell, specially vnder suche maner as the common people do resiste?

¶But it is lefull (say they) that a trangres∣sour be punished and put to deathe according to the lawes: then is it not lefull for a hole countrey or citie to be reuenged by warre? What may be answered in this place, is lon∣ger than is conueniente to reply. But this moche wol I say, there is a great difference. For the yuel doer founde fauty and conuicte, is by auctoritie of the lawes put to deathe. In warre there is nother parte with out faute. Where as one singular man doothe offende, the punyshemēt falleth only on hym selfe: & the example of the punyshement doth good vnto all other. In warre the mooste parte of the punyshemente and harmes fall vpon them that leaste deserued to be puny∣nyshed: that is vpon husband men, olde men, honest wyues, yonge chyldren, and virgins. But if there may any commodite at al be ge∣thered of this moste myscheffull thyng, that all to gether goth to the behoue of a certeine mooste vengeable theues, hyred soudiours, and stronge robbers, & parhappes to a ••ewe

capitaynes, by whose crafte warre was rey¦sed for that intent, and with whiche the mat¦ter gothe neuer better, then when the com∣mon weale is in moste hyghe ieoperdie and perylle to be loste. There as one is for his offence greuously punished, it is the welthy warnynge of all other: where as in warre to thende to reuenge the quarell of one, or els para••enture of a fewe, we cruellye af∣flicte and greue so many thousandes of them that nothynge deserued. It were better lea••e the offence of a fewe vnpunished, then whiles we seke occasion to punishe one or two, to brynge in to assured peril and daunger, both our neyghbours and innocent ennemyes (we call them our ennemies, though they neuer dyd vs hurte) and yet are we vncertayne, whether hit shall fall on theym or not, that we wolde haue punished. It is better to lette a wounde a lone, that can not be cu∣red without greuous hourte and daunger of all the holle body, then go about to heale it.

¶ Nowe if any man wyll crie out and say: It were ageynste all ryghte, that he that offendeth, shulde not be punished. Here vnto I answere, that it is moche more ageynst all righte and reason, that so many thousandes of innocentes shoulde be broughte into ex∣treme

calamite and mischiefe withoute dese••¦••ynge. Albeit nowe adayes we se, that al∣moste all warres sprynge vp I can not tell of what tytles, and of leages betwene prin∣ces, that whyles they go aboute to subdue to theyr dominion some one towne, they put in ieoperdye all theyr holle empire. And yet within a while after they sell or gyue a waye the same a towne agayne, that they gotte with shedynge of soo moche bloudde.

¶Perauenture some man woll sey: woldes•• not haue princis fighte for there ryghte? I knowe righte well, it is not mete for suche a man as I am, to dispute ouer boldylye of princis matters, and thought I mighte do it without any daunger, yet is it longer then is conuenient for this place. But this moch wol I say, If eche what soo euer title be a cause conuenient to go in hande with warre: there is no man that in soo greatte alteracions of mens affaires, & in so great variete, & cha••¦ges, can want a title. What nacyon is there that hath not sometyme be put out of theyr owne countrey, and also haue put other out? Howe ofte haue people gone from one con∣trey to an other? How ofte haue holle em∣pires bē translat from one to an other eithe••

by chaunce or by leage? Let the citisens of Padu•• claime nowe againe a goddes name the countrey of Troye for theyrs, bycause Antenor was sometymes a T••oyan. Lette the Romaynes nowe hardly clayne agayne Affrycke and Spayne, bycause those pro∣••ynces were somtyme vnder the Romaines. We cal that a dominion, whiche is but an ad∣ministration. The power and auctoritie ouer men, whiche be free by Nature, & ouer brute beastes, is not all one. What power and souerayn••e so euer you haue, you haue it by the consente of the people. And if I be not deceiued, he that hath auctorite to gyue, hath auctoritie to take awaye ageyne. Wyll ye se howe small a matter it is that we make all this rufflynge fore. The stryfe is not, whether this citie or that shulde be obeysant to a good prynce, and not in bondage of a Tyrante, but whether Ferdinande or Si∣gismunde hath the better title to it: whether that citie ought to paye tribute to Philyp or to kynge Lewes. This is that noble ryghte, for the whiche all the worlde is thus vexed and troubled with warres & manslaughter.

¶Yet go to, suppose that this right or title be as stronge, and of as great auctoritie as may be, suppose also there be no difference betwene a priuate felde and a wholle citie:

& admitte there be no difference betwene the beastes that you haue bought with your mo¦ney & men, whiche be not onely fre, but also trewe christians: yet is it a poynt of a wise man to caste in his mynde, whether the thing that you wol warre fore, be of so great va∣lure, that it wyll recompence the excedynge great harmes and losse of your owne people. If ye can not do in euery poynte as be com∣meth a prince, yet at the leaste wayes do as the marchant man dothe: he setteth naught by that losse, whiche he well perceyueth can not be aduoided without a greatter lo••se, and he rekeneth it a wynnyng, that fortune hath ben ageynste hym with his so lyttell losse. Orels at the leaste wyse folowe hym, of whom there is a mery tale commonly tolde.

¶There were two kinsmen at varience a∣bout deuiding of certayne goodes, and when they coude by no meanes agre, they must go to lawe to gether, that in conclusion the mat¦ter myght be ended by sentence of the iuges. They gotte theym atturneys, the plees were drawen, men of lawe had the matter in hande, they came before the iudges, the complaynte was entred, the cause was ple∣tid, and so was the warre begonne betwen•• theym.

Anon one of them remembynge hym selfe, called asyde his aduersary to hym and sayd on this wise. Fyrste it were a greatte shame, that a lyttel money shuld deseuer vs twayne, whom nature hath knytte so nere to gether. Secondly the ende of our stryfe is vncer∣tayne, no lesse then of warre. It is in our handes to begynne when we wol, but not to make an ende. All our stryfe is but for an hundred crownes, and we shall spende the double therof vpon notaries, vpon promo∣ters, vpon aduocates, vpon attourneys, vp∣pon inges, and vpon inges frendes, if we trie the lawe to the vttermooste. We muste wayte vpon these men, we muste flatter and speke theym faire, we muste gyue them re∣wardes. And yet I speake not of the care and thought, nor of the great labour and trauayle, that we muste take to runne about here and there to make frendes, and whe∣ther of vs boothe that wynnth the victorie, shalbe sure of more incommodite then pro∣ite. Wherfore if we wise be, lette vs rather se to our owne profite, and the money that shal be iuell bestowed vpon these bribers, let vs deuide it betwene vs twayne. And forgyue you the halfe of that ye thynke shuld be your duite, and I wyl forgyue as moch of myne.

And so shal we kepe and preserue our frend¦shyp, whiche els is lyke to perishe, and we shal also eschewe this great busines, coste, & charge. If you be not content to forgo a∣ny thyng of your parte, I commit the whole matter in to your owne handes, do with it as you wyll. For I had leauer my frende had this money, then those vnsatiable the∣ues. Me thynke I haue gayned inoughe, if I maye saue my good name, kepe my frende, and avoyde this vnquiet and char∣geable busynesse. Thus partly the tellyng of the trouth, and partlye the merye con∣ceyte of his kynseman, moued the other man to agree. So they ended the matter be∣twene them selfe, to the great displeasure of the iudges and seriantes, for they like a sort of gapynge rauons, were deluded and put besyde theyr praye.

¶Let a prince therfore folowe the wyse∣dome of these two men, specyally in a mat∣of moche more daunger. Nor let hym not regarde what thynge it is, that he wolde opteine, but what great losse of good thinges he shal haue, in what gret ieoperdies he shal be, & what miseries he must endure, to come therby. Nowe if a man wol wey, as it were in a paire of balance the cōmodities of wa••

on the one syde, & the incommodities on the other syde, he shall fynde that vninste peace is farre better then rightous warre. Why had we rather haue warre then peace?

Who but a madde man wolle angle with a golden fyshe hoke? If ye se that the char∣ges and expences shall amount farre aboue your gayne, ye thoughe all thynges go ac∣cordynge to your mynde, is it not better that ye forgo parte of your ryghte, than to bie so lyttel commodite with so innumerable mis∣chieues? I had leuer that any other man had the tytle, then I shoulde wynne it with soo gret effusiō of Christē mens blode. He (what so euer he be) hath nowe ben many yeres in possessiō. He is accustomed to rule, his subiec¦tes know him, he behaueth him like a prince, & one shal come forth, which fynding an olde tytle in some historyes, or in some blynde e∣uidence woll turne clene vp sette downe the quiete ••tate and good order of that commen wele. What auaileth it with so gret ruffeling to change any tytle, which in short space by one chance or other must go to an other man? Specially sith we mowe se, that there is no∣thing in this world, that doth cōtinue styl in one state, but at the scorneful plesure of for¦tune they rol to & fro, as the waues of y^e see.

Finally if Christen men can not despise and sette at naughte these so lighte thynges, yet wherto nedeth it by and by to runne to har∣ne••s? Sith there be so many bishops, men of great grauite and lernynge: sith there be so many venerable abbottes: sith there be so many noble men of great ancientie, whom longe vse and experience of thynges hathe made righte wise. Why are not these trife∣lynge & childishe quarels of princis pacified and set in order by the wisedome and discre∣tion of these men? But they seme to make a very honest reason of warre, whiche pre••end as they wolde defende the Churche. As though the people were not the churche, or as though the church of Christ was be••un, augmented, and stab••ished with warres and slaughters, and not rather in spillynge of the bloude of martirs, sufferance, and des∣pisynge of this lyfe, or as though the holle dignite o•• the churche re••ted in the riches of the pristis. Nor to me truely it semeth not so alowable, that we shuld so ofte make warre vpon the Turkes. Doubtles it were not well with christen religion, if the onely safe∣garde therof shulde depende on suche suc∣cours. Nor it is not likely, that they shulde be good christians, that by these meanes are

brought therto at the fyrste. For that thyng that is gotte by warre, is agayne an other tyme loste by warre. Woll ye brynge the Turkes to the fayth of Christe? Let vs not make a shewe of our gay riches, nor of our great nombre of soudiours, nor of our great strengthe. Let them se in vs none of these solempne titles, but the assured tokens of christen men, a pure innocent lyfe, a feruent desire to do well, yea to our very ennemes, the despisynge of money, the neglectynge of glorie, a poore simple lyfe. Let them here the heuenly doctrine agre••ble to suche a maner lyfe. These are the b••st armours to subdue the Turkes to Christe. Nowe often tymes we beinge ill, fight with the yuel. Ye and I shall sey an other thynge (Whiche I wolde to god were more boldly spoken then truely) if we sette a syde the title and signe of the Crosse, we fighte Turkes ageynste Turkes. If our religion were fyrst stablis∣shed by the might and strengthe of men of warre, if hit were confyrmed by dente of sworde, if it were augmented by warre, then let vs maynteyne it by the same meanes and wayes. But if all thynges in our feyth were brought to passe by other meanes. Why do, we thē (as we mistrusted the helpe of Christ)

seke suche succoure as the hethen people vse. But why shulde we not (say they) kyll them that wolde kyll vs? So thynke they it a great dishonour, if other shoulde be more michiuous then they. Why do ye not then robbe those, that haue robbed you before? Why do ye not skolde and chide at them that rayle at you? Why do ye not hate them that hate you? Trow ye it is a good christen mās dede to slee a Turke? For be the Turkes neuer so wicked, yet are they men, for whose saluation Chri••te suffred death. And kyl∣lynge Turkes we offre to the dyuell moste pleasant sacrifice, and with that one dede we please our ennemy the dyuell twyse, fyrste bycause a man is slayne, and agayne, by∣cause a christen man slewe hym. There be manye, whiche desyrynge to seme good christen menne, studye to hurte and greue the Turkes al that euer they may: & where they be not able to do nothynge, they curse and ban, and byd a mischife vpon them. Now by the same one poynte a man may perceyue, that they be farre from good christen men. Succour the Tourkes, and where they be wycked, make them good if ye can, if ye can not, wyshe and desyre of god they may haue grace to turne to goodnes. And he that

thus dothe, I woll say dothe lyke a christen man. But of all these thynges I shall in∣treate more largely, when I sette forthe my boke intytled Antipolemus, whiche whilom when I was at Rome I wrote to Iuly by∣shoppe of Rome, the seconde of that name, at the same tyme, when he was counsailed to make warre on the Venetians.

¶But there is one thynge, whiche is more to be lamented then reasoned: That if a man wolde diligently discusse the matter, he shal fynde, that all the warres amonge vs chri∣sten men do sprynge eyther of folishenes, or els of malyce. Some yonge men without experience, inflamed with the yuell exam∣••les of their fore fathers, that they finde by redynge of histories, writen of some folyshe auctours, & beside this being mo••ed with the exhortations of flaterers, with the instigatiō of lawiers, and assentynge therto of the di∣••ynes, the byshoppes wynkynge therat, or perauenture in••ycynge thervnto: haue ra∣ther of foolehardynes thenne of malice, goone in hande with warre: And with the great hurte & damage of al this world they lerne, that warre is a thynge, that shoulde be by all meanes and wayes fled and esche∣wed. Some other are moued by pri••y ha∣tred,

Ambition causeth some, and some are stirred by fyrcenes of minde to make warre. For truly there is almoste nowe none other thynge in our cities and common weales, then is conteyned in Homers warke Ilias, The wrathe of vndiscrete princis & people.

¶There be whiche for none other cause moue Warre, but to thentent they may by that meane the more easily exercise tyranny on theyr subiectis. For in the tyme of peace, the auctorite of the counsaile, the dignite of the rulers, the vigor and strengthe of the lawes, do somwhat let, that a prince can not do all that hym listeth: But as soone as warre is ones begunne, now all the hand∣lynge of matters resteth in the pleasure of a fewe persons. They that the prince fauou∣reth are lifted vp alofte: and they that be in his displeasure, go downe. They exacte as moche money as pleaseth them. What nede many wordes? Then they thynke theym selfe, that they be the greateste pryncis of the worlde. In the meane season the capy∣taynes they sporte and playe to gether, tyl they haue gnawen the poore people to the harde boonis. And thynke ye that hit wyll greue them, that be of this mynde, to entre lyghtly in to warre, whan any cause is of∣fered?

Besydes all this, it is a worlde to se by what meanes we colour our faute. I pre¦tende the defence of our religon, but my mynde is to gette the great riches that the Turke hath. Vnder colour to defende the churches ryght, I purpose to reuenge the hatred that I haue in my stomacke. I inclyne to ambition, I folowe my wrathe, my cruell fierce and vnbridled mynde com∣pelleth me, and yet woll I fynde a cauilla∣tion and say, the leage is not kept, or frend∣shyppe is broken, or some thynge (I wotte not what my selfe) concernynge the lawes of matrimony is omitted. And it is a won∣der to speake, howe they neuer opteyne the selfe thynge, that they so greatly desyre. And whiles they folishely labour to eschue this michiefe, or that, they fall in to an other moch worse, orels into the same. And sure∣ly if desire of glory causeth them thus to do, it is a thynge moche more magnificent and glorious to saue then to destroy: moch more gay and goodly to builde a cite, than to ouer throwe and destroye a citie.

¶Farthermore admitte that the victorie in batayle is gotte most prosperously, yet how small a porcion of the glorie shall go vnto the prince? The commons woll clayme a

great part of hit, by the helpe of whose mo∣ney the dede was done, outlandishe souldi∣ours, that are hired for money, woll chal∣lenge moche more then the commons: The capitaynes loke to haue very moche of that glorie, and fortune most of all, whiche stri∣kynge a great stroke in euery matter, in warre may do most of all. If it come of a noble courage and stoute stomake, that you be moued to make warre: se I pray you, how farre wyde be ye from your purpose? For whyles ye woll not be seen to bowe to one man, as to a prince your neyghbour, & per∣auēture of your aliāce, & which may fortune hath done you good: howe moche more ab∣iectly muste ye bowe your selfe, what tyme ye seke aide and helpe of barbarous people, ye and that is more vnworthye, of suche men as are defiled with all mischiuous de∣des, if we must nedes call suche kynde of monsters men? Whiles ye go about to allure vnto you with fayre wordes and promisses, rauyshers of virgines and of relygious wo∣men, menkyllers, stout robbers and rouers (for these be the speciall men of warre). And whyles you labour to be some what cruell and superiour ouer your equall, you are constrayned to submitte your selfe to

the very dregges of all men lyuynge. And whiles ye go aboute to dryue your neygh∣bour oute of his lande, ye muste nedes fyrste brynge into your owne lande the most pestilente puddell of vnthryftes that can be. You mistrust a prynce of your owne aliance, and wyll you committe your selfe holly to an armed multitude? Howe moche surer were it to committe your selfe to concorde?

¶ If ye woll make war bycause of lucre, take your countours and caste: And I woll saye, it is better to haue warre than peace, if ye finde not, that not alonely lesse, but also vncertayne wynnynge is gotte with inesty∣mable costis.

¶ Ye say ye make warre for the safe garde of the common weale, ye but no way sooner nor more vnthryftyly may the comon weale peryshe, then by warre. For before ye enter into the feld, ye haue alredy hurt more your countrey, then ye can do good gettynge the victorie. Ye haue wasted the citisens goodes, ye fyll the houses with lamentation, ye fyl al the contray with theues, robbers, and ra∣••yshers. For these are the relikes of warre. And wher as before ye might haue enioyed al France, ye shyft our selfe besydes many regions therof. If ye loue your owne sub∣iectes

truely, why reuolue you nat in mind these wordes. Why shall I put so many, in theyr lusty floryshing youth, in all michefes & perils? Why shal I departe so many ho∣nest wyues & theyr husbandes, and make so many fatherles childrē? Why shal I claime a title I knowe not, & a doubtful right, with spilling of my subiectes blode? We haue seen in our time, that in war made vnder coloure of defence of the church, the pristes haue ben so often pylled with demes, that none enne∣mye myght do more. So that whyle we go a¦bout folishely to eschewe falling in the diche, we willyngly leape hedlonge into the diche, while we can not suffre a light iniurye, we af¦flicte our selfe with moste greuous despites. While we be ashamed of gentilnes to dowe to a prynce, we be fayne to please peple mos••̄ base. Whyles we vndescretelye coueite libertie, we intangle our selfe in moste gre∣uous bondage. Whyles we hount after a li∣tel lucre, we greue our selfe and ours with inestimable harmes. It had ben a point of a prudent chrysten man (if he be a true christen man) by all maner meanes to haue fled, to haue shoned, and by prayer to haue withstan¦den so fendly a thynge, and so farre boothe from the lyfe and doctryne of Chryste.

But if it can by no meane be eschewed, by reason of the vngratiousnes of many men, when ye haue assayed euery way, and that ye ha••e for peace sake, lefte nothynge vn∣soughte vp, than the nexte way is, that ye do your diligence: that so yll a thynge may be ge••ted and done by them that be yll, and that it be atcheued with as lyttell effusion of mans bloudde as can be.

Now if we endeuour vs to be the self same thynge, that we here our selfe called, that is, good chrysten men, we shall lyttell es∣teme any worldly thynge, nor yet ambici∣ously couet any thynge of this worlde. For if we set all our mynde, that we may lyght∣ly and purely parte hence, if we inclyne hol∣ly to heuenly thynges, if we py••che all our felicite in Christe alone, if we beleue all that is truely good, truely gaye and glori∣ous, truelye ioyfull, to remayne in Christe alone, if we thro••ghly thynke that a godlye man can of no manne be hurte, if we pon∣dre howe vayne and vanishynge are the scornefull thynges of this worlde, if we in∣wardely beholde, howe harde a thynge hit is for a man to be in a maner transformed in to god, and so here with continuall and vnfatigable meditation to be purged from

all infections of this worlde, that within a while the huske of this body beinge caste of, it may passe hence to the company of an∣gels, finallye if we surelye haue these thre thynges, with out whiche none is worthy of the name of a christen man, Innocency, that we maye be pure frome all vicis, Charitie, that we may do good as nere as we can, to euery man, Pacience, that we maye suffre them that do vs yl, and if we can with good dedes ouercome wronges to vs done: I pray you, what warre can there be amonge vs for triffils? If it be but a tale that is tolde of Christe, why doo we not openlye put hym out of our company? Why shoulde we glory in his title? But if he be, as he is in verye dede, the trewe waye, the verye Trouthe, and the very lyfe, why dothe all the maner of our lyuynge differre so farre a sonder, from the trewe example of hym? If we aknowlege and take Chri••te for our auctour, whiche is very Charite, and nothe•• taught nor gaue other thynge but charytye and peace, then go to, let vs not in titles and signes, but in our dedes and liuynge playne∣ly expresse hym. Let vs haue in our hartes a feruent desire of peace, that Christe may ••gayne knowe vs for his. To this intente

the princis, the prelates, and the cites and cominalties shulde applie theyr counsailes. There hath ben hither to inoughe spylte of christen mans blode. We haue shewed plea∣••ure inough to the ennemes of christen reli∣gion. And if the common people, as they ar•• wont, make any ruffelynge, let the princis bridle and quayle them, whiche princis ought to be the selfe same thynge in the com¦mon weale, that the eie is in the body, and the reason in the scule. Agayne if the princis make any trouble, it is the part of good pre¦latis by theyr wysedome and gra••ite to paci¦fie and swage suche motions. Orels at the least we being satiat with continual warres, let the desire of peace a lit••ell mo••e vs. The very misery and wretchednes of warre dra¦weth vs to peace, Christe inticeth vs, The bishop exhorteth vs, if euer any bishop dyd, Leo the tenthe dothe, whiche occupieth the ••owme of our peaceble Salomon. For all his desire, all his intent and labour, is for this intent, that they whom one commune feyth hath coupled to gether, shulde be ioy∣ned in one commune concorde. He laboureth that the churche of Christe shulde florsshe, not in riches or ••ordshyps, but in her owne propre vertues. Surely this is a right

goodly acte, and well besemynge a man des∣cended of suche a noble linage as Medices: by whose ciuile prudence the noble cite of Florence moo••te freshely florished in longe continuall peace: the whose house of Medi∣ces hath ben a helpe vnto all good letters. Leo hym selfe hauynge alwey a sobre and a gentyll witte, gyuynge hym ••elfe from his tendre youthe to good lettres of humanite, was euer brought vp as it were in the lappe of the Musis amonge men must highly ler∣ned, he ••o fautles led his life, that euen in the citie of Rome, where is mo••t liberte of vice, was of hym none yuell rumour, and so go∣••ernynge hym selfe came to the dignytie to be byshop there, whiche dignite he neuer coueted, but was chosen therto when he left thought theron, by the prouision of god to helpe to redresse thynges in greate decay by longe warres. Let Iuly the byshoppe haue his glorye of warre, victories, and of his great tryumphes. The whiche howe yuell they beseme a chri••ten byshoppe, it is not for such one as I am to declare. I wol this say, his glorie, what so euer it be, was mixt with the gret di••truction & greuous sorowe of ma¦ny a creature. But by peace restored nowe to the worlde, Leo shall geatte more true glory, then Iuly wonne by so many warres

that he eyther, boldely begunne, or prospe∣rously fought and atcheued.

¶But they that had leauer here of prouer∣bes, thenne eyther of peace or of warre, woll thynke that I haue taried lon¦ger about this digression: then is mete for the declaracion of a Prouerbe.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  what m••••••chief co••••meth of warre.
• * 1.2

  ••harges 〈◊〉〈◊〉 warre.
• * 1.3

  Sodiou•• lyfe.
• * 1.4

  Parrici•••• is more abhorre thē sim•••••• mans slaught••••••
• * 1.5

  ••haritie.
• * 1.6

  The ly•••• of Chri••••••
• * 1.7

  Mat. 6.
• * 1.8

  Erudi••••