The philosophie, commonlie called, the morals vvritten by the learned philosopher Plutarch of Chæronea. Translated out of Greeke into English, and conferred with the Latine translations and the French, by Philemon Holland of Coventrie, Doctor in Physicke. VVhereunto are annexed the summaries necessary to be read before every treatise

THE CONTRADIC∣TIONS OF STOICK PHILOSOPHERS. [ 10]

The Summarie.

PLutarch being of the Academique sect, directly contrary to the Stoicks, examineth in this treatise the opinons of those his adversaries, and sheweth by proper 〈◊〉〈◊〉 out of their owne writings, and namely of Chrysippus their principall doctor, that there is nothing firme and certeine in all their doctrine: perusing and sifting to this end the chiefe points of all the parts of philosophie, not binding himselfe precise∣ly [ 20] to any speciall or der, but proposing matters according as they come into his remembrance, or were presented to his etes. Moreover, in the recitall of then repugnancics and contradictions, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 certeine expositions, to aggravate the absurdity of this sect of his adversaries, and to withdraw the reader from them: which is a very proper and singular maner of declaming and disputing against inveterate errors, and such as have a great name in the world: for in shewing that those who are re∣puted most able and sufficient to teach and mainteine them, know not what they say, and do consound themselves, is as much as to reproch every man who doth adhaere unto them, with this imputation, that his is deprived of common sense, in receiving that for a certeine verity, wherein their very 〈◊〉〈◊〉 are not well resolved, or admitting that which they practise, otherwise than they say. [ 30]

THE CONTRADICTIONS of Stoicke philosophers.

FIrst above all things, I would have to be seene a conformitie and accord betweene the opinions of men and their lives: for it is not so necessary, that the oratour, according as Lysias saith, and the law, should sound the same note, as requisite that the life of a phi∣losopher should be conformable and consonant to his words and [ 40] doctrine: for the speech of a philosopher is a voluntary and parti∣cular law which hee imposeth upon himselfe, if it beso as men esteeme, that philosophie is (as no doubt it is) the profession of that which is serious, grave, and of weighty importance, and not a gamesome sport, or vaine and toyish pratling, devised onely for to gaine glory. Now we see, that Zeno himselfe hath written much by way of disputation and discourse; Cleanthes likewise, and Chrysippus most of all, concerning the politique government of common-wealth, touching rule and obedience, of judgement also and pleading at the barre: and yet looke into all their lives throughout, you shall not finde that ever any of them were cap∣tains and commanders, neither law-givers, nor senatours, & counsellers of State, ne yet orators [ 50] or advocates pleading judicially in court before the judges; nay, they were not so much as em∣ploied in any warre, bearing armes, and performing mattiall service for the defence of their countries: you shal not find (I say) that any of them was ever sent in embassage, or bestowed any publicke largesse or donative to the people; but remained all the time of their life (and that was not short, but very long) in a strange and forren countrey, feeding upon rest and repose, as if they had tasted of the herbe Lotus in Homer, and forgotten their native foile, where they spent their time in writing books, in holding discourses, and in walking up and downe. Heereby it

manifestly appeereth, that they lived rather according to the sayings and writings of other, than answerable to that which themselves judge and confesse to be their duty, having passed the whole course of their life in that quiet repose, which Epicurus and Hieronymus so highly praise and recommend. And verily to proove this to be a trueth, Chrysippus himselfe in his fourth booke entituled, Of Lives, is of opinion, and so hath put downe in writing, that a scholasticall life, to wit, that of idle students, differeth not from the life of voluptuous persons. And to this purpose I thinke it not amisse to alledge the mans speech word for word: They (quoth he) who thinke that this scholastical and idle life of students even from the first beginning, is most of all beseeming and agreeable to philosophers, in my conceit, seeme much deceived weening as they do, that they are to philosophize for their pastime or recreation, and so to draw out in [ 10] length the whole course of their life at their booke in their studies, which is as much to say in plaine tearmes, as to live at ease and in pleasure. Neither is this opinion of theirs to be hidden and dissembled; for many of them give out as much openly, howsoever others, and those not a few deliver the same more obscurely; and yet where is he who grew old and aged more in this idle scholasticall life, than Chrysippus, Cleanthes, Diogenes, Zeno and Antipater? who forsooke and abandoned even their native countries, having no cause or occasion in the world to com∣plaine of or to be discontent; onely to this end, that they might lead their lives more sweetly at their pleasure, studying and disputing with ease, and letting out their girdle slacke as they list themselves. To approove this that I say, Aristocreon the disciple of Chrysippus, and one of his familiar friends, having caused a statue of brasse to be erected for him, set over it these elegant [ 20] verses in maner of an epigram:

This image, Aristocreon erected fresh and new For Chrysip, Academicke knots who like an ax did hew

Lo, what maner of person was Chrysippus, an aged man, a philosopher, one who praised the life of kings, and of those who are conversant in weale publike, and he who thought there was no dif∣ference betweene the idle scholasticall life, and the voluptuous. And yet others among them as many I meane as deale in state affaires, are found to be more repugnant and contradictory to the resolutions of there owne sect: for they beare rule as chiefe magistrates, they are judges, [ 30] they be Senatours and set in counsell, they ordaine and publish lawes, they punnish malefac∣tours, they honour and reward those that doe well; as if they were cities indeed wherein they governe and manage the state; as if those were senatours, counsellers and judges, who yeerely alwaies are by lot created or otherwise to such places; captaines and commanders who are elec∣ted by the suffrages and voices of citizens; and as if those were to be held good lawes which Clisthenes, Lycurgus & Solon made: and yet the same men they avow and maintaine to have bene witlesse fooles, and leawd persons. Thus you see how albeit they administer the common weale, yet they be repugnant to their owne doctrine.

In like maner Antipater, in his booke of the dissention, betweene Cleanthes, and Chrysippus reporteth, that Zeno and Cleanthes would never be made citizens of Athens, for feare forsooth [ 40] lest they might be thought to offer injurie to their owne country. Now if they herein did well, let Chrysippus goe, and say wee nothing of him that he did amisse, in causing himselfe to be en∣rolled and immatriculated in the number of Athenian citizens; for I will not stand much upon this point: onely this I holde, that there is a strange and woonderfull repugnance in their deeds and actions, who reserve still the bare names of their native countries, and yet bereave the same of their very persons and their lives, conversing so farre off in forraine lands: much like as if a man who hath cast off and put a way his lawfull wedded wife, should dwell, live and lie ordinary with another as his concubin, yea and beget children of her body, and yet will in no wise espouse her and contract marriage with her, lest forsooth he might seeme to doe wrong and injurie to the former. Furthermore Chrysippus in his treatise that he made of Rhetoricke writing thus, that [ 50] a wise man will in such sort plead, make orations to the people, and deale in state matters, as if riches reputation and health were simply good things, testifieth hereby and confesseth that his precepts and resolutions induce men not to goe forth of doores nor to intermedle in politicke and civill affaires, and so by consequence that their doctrines and precepts cannot sort well with practise, nor be agreeable unto the actions of this life.

Moreover, this is one of Zenoes quodlibets or positions: that we ought not to build temples to the honour of the gods: for that a temple is no such holy thing, nor so highly to be estee∣med

considering it is the workemanship of masons, carpenters and other artificers: neither can any worke of such artisans be prised at any woorth. And yet even they who avow and approve this as a wise speech of his, are themselves professed in the religious mysteries of those churches; they mount up to the castle and frequent there the sacred temple of Minerva; they adore the shrines and images of the gods; they adorne the temples with chaplets and guarlands, not∣withstanding they be the workes of masons, carpenters and such like mechanicall persons. And will these men seeme indeed to reproove the Epicureans as contrary to themselves, who deny∣ing that the gods be occupied or imploied in the government of the world, yet offer sacrifice unto them, when as they checke and refute themselves much more in sacrificing unto the gods within their temples and upon their altars, which they maintaine that they ought not to stand at [ 10] all, nor once to have bene built?

Zeno putteth downe & admitteth many vertues according to their several differences, like as Plato doth, to wit, prudence, fortitude, temperance & justice; saying that they be all in very deed and in nature inseparable nor distinct a sunder: howbeit in reason divers and different one from another. And againe when he would seeme to define them severally one after another, he saith That fortitude is prudence in the execution of matters: justice is prudence in the distribution of things, &c. as if there were no more but one sole vertue, which according to divers relati∣ons, unto affaires and actions, seemeth to differ and admit distinction. So you see, that not Zeno alone seemeth to be repugnant unto himselfe in these matters, but Chrysippus also, who reprooveth Ariston for saying, that all vertues are nothing else but the divers habitudes and re∣lations [ 20] of one and the same, and yet defendeth Zeno when he defineth ech vertue in this wise by it selfe.

As for Clearches in his commentaries of nature, having set this downe, that the vigour and firmitude of things, is the illision and smiting of fire, which if it be in the soule so sufficient, that it is able to performe the duties presented unto it, is called strength and power, he annex∣eth afterward these words: And this very power and strength (quoth he) when as it is emploied in such objects where in a man is to persist, and which he ought to conteine, is called Conti∣nency; if in things to be endured and supported, then it is named Fortitude; if in estimation of worthinesse and desert, beareth the denomination of Justice; if in choises or refusals, it carieth the name of Temperance. Against him who was the authour of this sentence, [ 30]

For beare thy sentence for to passe, and judgement see thou stay, Untill such time as thou hast heard what parties both can say.

Zeno alledged such a reason as this on the contrary side. Whether the plaintife who spake in the first place hath plainly proved his cause or no, there is no need at all to heare the second, for the matter is at an end already, and the question determined: or whether he hath not proved it, all is one; for it is even the same case, whether he that is cited be so stubburne as not to appeare for to be heard, or if he appeare, doe nothing els but cavill and wrangle: so that proove he or proove he not his cause, needlesse it is to heare the second plead. And yet even he who made [ 40] this Dilemma, and wrote against the books of Policie and common wealth that Plato compo∣sed, taught his scholars how to affoile and avoid such Sophisticall arguments, yea and exhor∣ted them to learne Logicke with all diligence, as being the art which sheweth them how to per∣forme the same. Howbeit a man might come upon him by way of objection in this maner: Certes, Plato hath either proved or els not proved those points which he handled in his Poli∣ticks: but whether he did or no, there was no necessitie at all to write against him as you did; for it was altogether vaine, needlesse and superfluous. And even the same may be said of Sophisti∣call arguments and cavillations.

Chrysippus is of opinion, that yong scholars and students should first learne those arts which concerne speech, as Grammar, Logicke and Rhetoricke; in the second place, morall sciences; [ 50] in the third, naturall philosophie; and after all these, in the last place, to heare the doctrine as touching religion and the gods: which being delivered by him in many passages of his wri∣tings, it shall be sufficient to alledge that onely which he hath written thus word for word in the third booke of his Lives. First and formost (quoth he) it seemeth unto mee, according to the doctrine of our ancients, that of Philosophicall speculations there be three kinds; Logicall, as touching speech; Ethicall, concerning maners; and Physicall, belonging to the nature of things: of which, that which is respective unto speech ought to precede and be ranged first; se∣condly,

that which treateth of maners; thirdly, that which handleth naturall causes. Now of these Physicks and naturall arguments, the last is that which treateth of God: and this is the rea∣son that the precepts and traditions of divine matters and of religion, they called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as one would say, the very last and comming in the end. Howbeit, this treatise of the gods, which by his saying ought to be set last, himselfe in the very same booke, rangeth above maners, and set∣teth before all other morall questions. For neither seemeth he to speake of the ends, nor of ju∣stice, nor of good and evill things, nor of marriage, nor of the nouriture and education of chil∣dren, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yet of law nor of the government of the Common-wealth in any sort; but as they who propose and publish decrees unto cities and States, make some preamble before of good lucke or happie fortune; so he useth the preface of Jupiter, of Fatall destinie, of Divine providence: also, that there being but one world, the same doth consist and is mainteined by one mightie [ 10] power. Which points, no man doth firmly beleeve nor can be resolutely perswaded in, unlesse he wade deeply into the profoundest secrets and discourses of naturall Philosophie. But hear∣ken I beseech you, a little, to that which he saith of these matters, in his third booke of the gods: It is not possible (quoth he) to finde out any other fountaine and original beginning of justice, than from Jupiter and common nature: for from hence it must needs be, that every such thing is derived, if that we meane to discourse of good things and evill. Againe, in his Treatise of na∣turall positions, there is no other way, or at leastwise not a better, of proceeding to the discourse of good things and bad, nor of of vertues, nor of sovereigne felicitie, than from common na∣ture, and the administration of the world. Moreover, as he goeth forward in another place, We are to annex and adjoine hereunto (quoth he) a treatise of good and evill things, considering [ 20] there is not a better beginning thereof, nor yet a reference and relation more proper: nei∣ther is the speculation and science of nature in any other respect requisit or necessarie to be learned, but onely for to know the difference of good and evill. And therefore according to Chrysippus, this naturall science both goeth before and also followeth after morall things; or to say a trueth at once in more expresse termes, it were a strange and difficult inversion of order, to holde, that it is to be placed after them, considering that without it it were impossible to com∣prehend any of the other: and a very manifest repugnance it were to affirme, that science naturall is the beginning of morall, which treateth of good and evill, and yet ordeine neverthe∣lesse, that it should be taught not before, but after it. Now if any man say unto me, that Chrysip∣pus [ 30] in his booke entituled, The use of speech, hath written, that he who first learneth Logicke, I meane the knowledge and philosophie concerning words, ought not altogether for to for∣beare the learning of other parts, but that he ought to take a taste of them, according as he hath meanes thereto, well may he speake a trueth, but withall, confirme he shall my accusation still of his fault: for he fighteth with himselfe, in ordering one while that a man should learne in the last place and after all, the science that treateth of God, as if that were the reason why it was cal∣led 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which is as much as 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say, Finall; and another while teaching cleane contrarie, that the same is to be learned even with the very first, and at the beginning: for then farewell all order for ever, and welcome confusion, if we must learne all things hudled together at all times. But yet this is not the woorst, for having set this downe for a reasolution: That the doctrine as touching good things and evill, ought to begin and proceed from the know∣ledge [ 40] of God; yet, he will not have them who settle themselves and enter into the studie of morall philosophie, to take their beginning there: but that in learning this, to catch somewhat of that by the way, even as much as they have easie meanes to come by; and afterwards to re∣passe from morall philosophy unto Theologie, without which (he saith) there can bee neither entrance nor progresse in the knowledge of maners.

Moreover (he saith) that, To dispute of one and the same question, pro & contra, to and fro, he disalloweth not simply and in generality: but his advise is, to use the same so warily and with such discretion, as otherwhiles oratours doe in pleading, when they alledge the reasons of their adversaries, not to uphold and mainteine the same, but onely for to refure and disproove that likelihood and probabilitie which they pretend: For otherwise (quoth he) thus to doe, is the [ 50] maner of those Skepticks, who be alwaies doubtfull, and withhold their consent in every thing: a meere shift that serveth their turne, for whatsoever they hold: but as for those who would worke and establish in mens hearts, a certeine science, according to which they might un∣doubtedly guide and conduct themselves, they ought to sound and search the contrary, and from point to point by stepmeale, to direct their novices newly entred, even from the begin∣ning to the very end: wherein there falleth out otherwhiles fit opportunity to make mention

of contrary sentences and opinions, for to refute and resolve that which might seeme to have apparence of trueth; as the maner is in pleading before judges: for these be the very words and proper tearmes that he useth. Now what an absurd and impertinent a thing it is, that philoso∣phers should thinke they were to put downe the contrary opinions of other philosophers, and not withall, their reasons and arguments, but onely as advocates pleading at the barre to dis∣able and weaken their proofes, and so to weary their adversaries; as if disputation were onely to win the honour of victory, and not to finde out a trueth: we have elsewhere discoursed against him sufficiently. But that himselfe not heere and there in his disputations, but oftentimes and in many places hath confirmed with might and maine, yea, and with so great asseveration and contention, contrary resolutions, unto his owne opinions, that it were a right hard matter [ 10] for any man to discerne, which of them he approoveth most, they themselves in some sort doe say, who admire the subtilty of the man, and the vivacity of his spirit, who also both thinke and sticke not to affirme, that Carneades spake nothing of his owne invention, but by the helpe and meanes of which arguments Chrysippus used to proove his owne assertions, hee returned the same contrariwise upon himselfe to confute his precepts, insomuch as eftsoones in disputation he would, alluding to a verse in Homer, cry out aloud in this maner:

Unhappy man, thus for to doe, Thine owne pure strength will worke thy woe.

as if he lay open and ministred great advantages and meanes against himselfe, to those who went about for to infringe and calumniate his opinions. But as touching those treatises and dis∣courses [ 20] which he hath put foorth and set out against ordinary custome, his followers do so glo∣riously boast and joy, that they give out, if all the books of the Academiques that ever lived, were laid together, they deserved not to be compared with that which Chrysippus wrote in ca∣lumniation of the senses: an evident signe either of their ignorance who say so, or els of their owne blinde selfe-love. Howbeit, certeine it is, that afterwards being desirous to defend cu∣stome and the senses, he was found much inferior to himselfe, and the latter treatise came farre short of the former, and was nothing at all so pithy; in such sort as he is contradictorie and re∣pugnant to himselfe: whiles he alwaies prescribeth and willeth to conferre and oppose contra∣ry sentences, not as one patronizing any, but making an ostentation that they be false: and af∣terwards sheweth himselfe to be a more vehement accuser, than a defender of his owne proper [ 30] sentences; and counselling others to take heed of repugnant and contrary disputations, as those which distract and impeach their perception, himselfe is more studious and diligent to addresse such proofes as overthrow perception, than those which are to establish and confirme the same: and yet that he feared no lesse, hee declareth plainly in the fourth booke of his lives, where he writeth thus: We are not rashly nor without good respect and advisement to admit and allow repugnant disputations and contrary opinions to be proposed, nor to answere those probable arguments which are brought against true sentences: but heerein we must warily goe to worke, and cary our selves so, as fearing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lest the hearers being thereby distracted and diverted, let goe this apprehension and conception, and be not of sufficient capacity to comprehend their solutions, but after such a feeble sort, as that their comprehensions be ready [ 40] to falter and shake, considering that even they who customably comprehend sensible objects and other things which depend of senses, quickly forgo the same, being distracted as well by Megarian interrogatories, as by others more forcible, and in greater number. Now would I gladly demand of these Stoicks whether they thinke these Megarian interrogatories more pu∣issant than those which Chrysippus hath written in sixe bookes; or rather Chrysippus himselfe would be asked the question. For marke I pray you, what he hath written of the Megarian dispu∣tation in his booke entituled; The use of speech, after this maner: Such a thing as befell in the disputation betweene Stilpo and Menedemus, both renowmed personages for their learning and wisedome; and yet the whole maner of their arguing is now turned to their reproch and plain mockery, as if their arguments were either very grosse, or else too captious & sophistical: and yet good sir these arguments which it pleaseth you to scorne and tearme the reproach of [ 50] those who make such interrogatories, as containing in them notorious leawdnesse, you feare lest they should divert any from perception: And even your owne selfe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so many books as you doe against custome whereunto you have adjoined whatsoever you could devise and in∣vent, labouring to surmount and surpasse Arcesilaus; did you never expect and looke to scare and terrifie any of the readers that should light upon them? For Chrysippus verily useth not onely slender and naked arguments in disputing against custome, but as if he were an advocate

pleading at the barre, mooveth affections being passionate and affectionate himselfe, breaking out eftsoones into these tearmes of giving the foole, and imputing vanity and sottishnesse; and to the end that he might leave no place for contradiction at all, but that he delivereth repug∣nances and speaketh contraries, thus hath he writen in his Positions naturall. A man may very well, when he hath once perfectly comprised a thing, argue a little on the contrary side, and ap∣ply that defence which the matter it selfe doth affoord: yea and otherwhiles, when he doth com∣prehend neither the one nor the other, discourse of either of them pro & contra, as much as the cause will yeeld. Also in that treatise of his concerning the use of speech, after he had said, we ought not to use the power and faculty of disputation, no more than armes or weapons, in things that tend to no purpose, and when the case requireth it not, he addeth soone after these [ 10] words: For we ought to imploy the gift of reason and speech to the finding out of trueth, and such things as resemble it: and not contrariwise; howsoever many there be that are wont so to doe. And peradventer by these Many, he meaneth those Academicks, who ever doubt and give no assent to any thing: and they verily, for that they comprehend neither the one nor the o∣ther, doe argue on both parts to and fro, that it is perceptible: as if by this onely or especiall meanes the trueth yeelded a certeine comprehension of it selfe, if there were nothing in the world comprehensible. But you who accuse and blame them, writing the contrary to that which you conceive as touching custome, and exhorting others to doe the same, and that with an af∣fectionate defence, doeplainly confesse, that you use the force of speech and eloquence, in things not onely unprofitable, but also hurtfull, upon a vaine ambtious humor of shewing your [ 20] ready wit, like to some yoong scholar.

These Stoicks affirme, that a good deed, is the commandement of the law, and sin the prohi∣bition of the law: and therefore it is that the law forbiddeth fooles and leawd folke to doema∣ny things, but prescribeth them nothing; for that indeed they are not able to doe ought well. And who seeth not that impossible it is for him who can doe no vertuous act, to keepe himselfe from sin and transgression? Therefore they make the law repugnant to it selfe, if it command that which to performe is impossible, and forbid that which men are not able to avoid. For he that is not able to live honestly, cannot chuse but beare himselfe dishonestly; and whosoever he be, that cannot be wise, must of necessity become a foole: and even them selves doe holde that those lawes which are prohibitive, say the same thing, when they forbid one, and command like∣wise [ 30] another. For that which saith thou shalt dot steale, saith verily the same, to wit, Steale not, but it forbiddeth withall to steale; and therefore the law forbiddeth fooles and leawd persons nothing, for otherwise it should command them somewhat. And thus they say that the Physi∣cian biddeth his apprentise or Chyrurgian to cut or to cauterize, without adding thereto these words, handsomly, moderatly, and in good time. The Musician likewise commandeth his scho∣lar to sing or play upon the harpe a lesson, without putting thereto, in tune, accord and good measure. Howbeit they punnish and chastice those that doe amisse and contrary to the rules of art, for that they were willed and enjoined to doe the thing well, but they did it ill. And even so a wise man commanding his servant to say or doe a thing, if he punnish him for doing it unto∣wardly, out of season, and not as he ought, certeine it is that he commanded him to performe a [ 40] good duty, and not a meane and indifferent action. Now if wise men command fooles and lewd persons to doe things indifferent, what should hinder them but that the commandements of the lawes may be semblable?

Moreover, that instinct or naturall motion which is called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, according to him, is nothing els but the reason of man, inciting him to do a thing, as himself hath written in his treatise of the law, ergo, that diversion, contrariwise called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, can be nothing els but reason withdrawing a man from the doing of a thing: and therefore that inclination is a reasonable inclination: and this warry caution, is as much as the reason of a wise man, forbidding him to doe a thing: for to beware, and to take heed, is the part and property of wise men and not of fooles. If then the rea∣son of a wise man be one thing, and the law another, wise men have this warie caution repugnant [ 50] unto the law: but in case law, and the reason of a wise man be both one, it will be found that the law forbiddeth wise men to doe those things, which they doubt and be affraid of. To foolish and wicked persons (quoth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ) there is nothing profitable, neither hath such an one, use or need of ought. Having delivered this sentence in his first booke of perfect duties or offices, he commeth afterwardes and saith, that utility or commodiousnesse and grace perteine and reach unto meane and indifferent things, whereof according to the Stoicks doctrine there is not one profitable: and more than that, he saith there is nothing proper, nothing meet and convenient

for a foolish leawd man: and so by consequence it followeth upon these words; there is nothing strange, nothing unfitting for a wise and honestman, like as nothing fit and familiar for a leawd foole: for as goodnesse is proper to the one, so is leawdnesse to the other. How commeth it then to passe that he maketh our heads to ake againe, with telling us so often in all his bookes as well of naturall philosophy as morall, that presently from our nativity and birth, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be affectio∣nate to our selves, to our proper members, and to the issue descending from us 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the first booke of Justice he saith, that even wilde beasts are propense and affected unto their yoong ac∣cording as their need and necessity requires, all save fishes: for their yoong fry are nourished by themselves. But there is no sense, where is no sensible object, nor appropriation, where no∣thing is proper and familiar: for surely this appropriation seemeth to be the sense and percepti∣on [ 10] of that which is familiar. And this opinion is conformable to their principles.

Moreover, Chrysippus, albeit in divers places he write many things contrarily, yet he accor∣deth to this sentence manifestly, that there is no one vice greater, nor sinne more grievous than another; as also reciprocally, there is not one vertue more excellent, not one vertuous deed (which they call perfect duetie) better than another, considering that he hath this in the first booke of Nature: that like as it beseemeth Jupiter well, to magnifie and glorifie himselfe and his life, as also if we may so say, to beare his head aloft, highly to esteeme his owne greatnesse, and to speake big, considering he leadeth a life woorthy of grandeloquence and hautie speech: even so it befitteth and becommeth all honest men to do the like, considering that in no respect they be inferior to Jupiter. And yet himselfe againe in the third booke of Justice saith, that those who affirme Pleasure to be the end and sovereigne good of man, overthrow Justice; but whosoever [ 20] say it is simply good, do not destroy Justice. And the very words which he useth, be these: Per∣adventure (quoth he) it may be, that if we leave unto Pleasure this attribute, To be simply and onely good, although it be not the end of all good things, and that honesty and vertue is of the kinde of those things which be eligible for themselves: haply, by this meanes we may save Ju∣stice, in esteeming Honesty and Justice to be a more perfect and absolute good thing than is Pleasure: but in case it be so, that the thing onely which is honest is good, he erreth much who affirmeth that pleasure is good; howbeit, lesse than he who should say that it is the end of all good things; for that as the one doth abolish and destroy utterly all Justice, the other doth so preserve and mainteine it: for according to the latter of the twaine, all humane societie perish∣eth, [ 30] whereas the former reserveth yet some place for bountie and civill humanitie. I let passe to relate what he saith in the booke entituled, Of Jupiter, namely, that vertues grow, that they also passe; because I would not be thought to lie at vantage, and to catch at words; howsoever Chry∣sippus himselfe in this kind of reprehension dealeth bitterly with Plato and other Philosophers, for taking holde of words: but whereas he forbiddeth to praise all that is done vertuously, he gi∣veth us to understand, that there is some difference in dueties and offices. Now this is the verie text in his treatise of Jupiter. For albeit vertuous acts be commendable, yet we are not to infer thereupon and say, that we ought to commend all that seemeth to proceed from vertue, as namely, to praise for a valiant act, the stiffe stretching out of the finger; or for temperance and continenencie, the abstinence from an old trot, who hath one foot already in her grave; or for [ 40] prudence, to understand aright and without errour, that three will not make foure: for he that went in hand to praise and commend a man for such things as these, should shew himselfe to be very bold and absurd even in the highest degree. And as much as this in a maner writeth he in the third booke of the gods: For I thinke verily (quoth he) that the praises of such matters be impertinent and absurd, although they seeme to depend of vertue, as namely, to forbeare an old trot now at the pits brincke, or to abide a flie-biting. What other accuser should he looke for then of his opinions, but himselfe: for if it be so, that hee is absurd who commendeth these things, then must he be thought much more absurd, who supposeth ech one of these vertuous deeds to be not onely great, but also most magnificent. For if it be a valiant act to endure the biting of a flie; and likewise the part of a chaste and continent person, to abstaine from carnall [ 50] dealing with an olde woman ready to drop into her grave; then it makes no matter, but it is all one, to praise an honest man 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for one thing as another. Moreover, in his second booke of Friendship, whenas he giveth a precept, that we ought not to dissolve amities for every fault or defect, he userh these very tearmes: For there be faults (quoth he) which we must overpasse quite, and make no stay at them; others there be againe, whereat we should a little stand, and take offence; and others besides, which require more chastisement; but some there are, which we must thinke 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to breake friendship for ever. And more than all this, in the same

booke he saith, that we ought to converse and be acquainted with some more, and with others lesse, according as they be our friends more or lesse: which difference and diversitie extendeth very far, insomuch as some are worthy of such an amitie, others of a greater; some deserve thus much trust and confidence, others more than it: and so it is in other matters semblable. And what other is his drift in all these places, but to put a great difference betweene those things, for which friendships are engendred? And yet in his booke of Honestie, to shew that there is no∣thing good but that which is honest, he delivereth these words: A good thing is eligible and to be desired: that which is eligible and desirable, is also acceptable: that which is acceptable, is likewise commendable: and that which is commendable, is honest withall. Againe, a good thing is joious and acceptable: joious is venerable, and venerable is honest. But these speeches [ 10] are repugnant to himselfe: for be it, that all that is good were laudable (and then chastly to for∣beare for to touch an olde riveled woman, were a commendable thing) or say that every good thing were neither venerable nor joious and acceptable; yet his reason falleth to the ground: for how can it be that others should be thought frivolous and absurd in praising any for such things, and himselfe not worthy to be mocked and laughed at, for taking joy and pleasing him∣selfe in such ridiculous toies as these?

Thus you see how he sheweth himselfe in most part of his writings; and yet in his disputati∣ons which he holdeth against others, he is much more carelesse to be contrary and repugnant to himselfe: for in his treatise which he made as touching exhortation, reproving Plato for say∣ing, that it was not expedient for him to live at all, who is not taught, nor knoweth not how to [ 20] live, he writeth in these very tearmes: This speech of his (quoth he) is both contradictory & re∣pugnant to it selfe, and besides, hath no force nor efficacy at all to exhort: for first and for∣most in shewing us that it were expedient for us, not to live at all, and giving us at it were counsell to die, he exhorteth us to any thing rather than to the practise of studie of philo∣losophie, because it is not possible for a man to philosophize, unlesse he live: nether can he be∣come wise, survive he never so long, if he lead an evill and ignorant life. And a little after hee saith farther: That it is as meet and convenient also even for leawd and wicked persons to re∣maine alive. But I care not much to set downe his very words: First of all, like as vertue barely in it selfe considered, hath nothing in it, for which we should desire to live: even so vice hath as little, for which we ought to leave this life. What need we now turne over other books of Chry∣sippus [ 30] and drip leafe by leafe, to proove how contrary and repugnant he is to himselfe: for even in these which now we cite and alledge, he commeth out otherwhiles with this saying of An∣tisthenes, for which he commendeth him, namely, that a man is to be provided either of wit to understand, or else of a with to under-hang himselfe: as also this other verse of Tyrtaus:

The bounds of vertue first come nie, Or else make choise before to die.

And what other meaning is there of these words but this, that it is more expedient for foolish and lewd persons to be out of the world, than to live: and in one passage, seeming to correct Theognis: He should not (quoth he) have said 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 &c.

A man from poverty to flie, [ 40] (O Cyrnus) ought himselfe to cast Headlong, from rocks most steepe and hie, Or into sea as deepe and vast.

But rather thus, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, &c.

Aman from sinne and vice to flie, &c.

What other things else seemeth he to doe, than to condemne and scrape out of other mens writings, the same things, propositions and sentences, which himselfe hath inserted in his own books? For he reprooveth Plato when he prooveth and sheweth, that it is better not to live at all, than to lead a life in wickednesse or ignorance: and in one breath hee giveth counsell to Theognis to set downe in his poesie; That a man ought to fling himselfe downe headlong into [ 50] the deepe sea, or to breake his necke from some high rocke for to avoid sinne and wicked∣nesse. And praising as hee did Antisthenes for sending fooles and witlesse folke, to an halter wherewith to hang themselves; he blamed him neverthelesse who said, that vice was not a suffi∣cient cause, wherefore we should shorten our lives. Moreover, in those books against Plato himselfe, concerning justice, he leapeth directly at the very first into a discourse as touching the gods, and saith: That Cephalus did not divert men well from evill dooing, by the feare of the gods: affirming moreover, that the discourse which he made as touching divine vengeance,

might easily be infringed and refuted, for that of it selfe it ministreth many arguments and pro∣bable reasons on the contrary side; as if the same resembled for all the world the fabulous tales of Acco and Alphito, wherewith women are woont to scarre their little children, and to keepe them from doing shrewd turnes. Thus deriding, traducing, and backbiting Plato, hee praiseth elsewhere, and in many places else alledgeth these verses out of Euripides:

Well, well, though some this doctrine doe deride, Be sure, in heaven with other gods beside, Sits Jupiter, the deeds of men who see, And will in time revenged surely bee.

Semblably, in the first booke of Justice, when he had alledged these verses heere out of He∣siodus, [ 10]

Then Saturnes sonne, god Jupiter, great plagues from heaven did send, Even dearth and death, both which, of all the people made an end.

he saith, that the gods proceed in this wise, to the end that when the wicked be thus punished, others also advertised and taught by their example, might beware how they commit the like, or at leastwise sinne lesse.

What should I say moreover, how in this treatise of Justice, having affirmed, that those who hold pleasure to be good, but not the soveraigne end of good, may in some sort withall preserve [ 20] & mainteine justice, for, so much he hath put downe in these very termes: For haply, admitting pleasure to be good although not the supreme good or the end: and honesty to be of the kind of those things, which are eligible and to be desired for their owne sake, wee may by that meanes save justice, while we permit and allow that which is honest and just to be a greater good than pleasure. Having (I say) delivered the same also in his books of pleasure: yet in his treatise a∣gainst Plato, reprooving him for raunging health in the number of good things, he affirmeth, that not onely justice, but also magnanimity, temperance, and all other vertues are abolished and perish, in case we hold that either pleasure, or health, or any other thing whatsoever, can be numbred and reputed among good things, unlesse the same be honest. Now as touching the apologie or answer that may be made in defence of Plato, I have elsewhere written against [ 30] Chrysippus: but even in this very place there is manifestly to be seene a repugnancy and contra∣diction against himselfe: considering that one while hee saith, that justice may stand well e∣nough, if a man suppose pleasure joined with honesty to be good; and another while contrari∣wise, he findeth fault with all those, who repute any thing else to be good, but onely that which is honest; as if thereby they abolished and overthrew all vertues. And because he would leave no meanes at all to salve and save his contradictions, writing of justice against Aristotle, he challengeth him for untrueth, in that hee affirmeth, that if pleasure were granted to bee the soveraigne good, both Justice were overthrowen, and therewith also every vertue besides: For this is certaine (quoth he) that those who are of this opinion, doe indeed abolish Justice; howbeit I see no let why other vertues may not stand, if not those which be of them selves ex∣petible, [ 40] yet such at leastwise as be good and vertuous really. And thereupon he proceedeth presently to name them every one severally. But it were not a misse to recite his ownelwords as he delivered them: For suppose (quoth he) that by this discourse and reason, Pleasure seeme the very end of all good things, yet we are not to inferre hereupon, that all is comprised under it: and therefore we must say, that neither any vertue is to be desired, nor vice to be eschued for it selfe, but all these things are to be referred unto a scope and marke proposed: and yet in the meane time what should hinder, but that fortitude, prudence, continence, patience, and other such vertues, may be good and expetible, like as their contraries bad and to be avoided. What man therfore was there ever in his speeches and disputations more rash and audacious than he? considering that he charged the two princes of Phylosophers with imputations: the one for a∣bolishing [ 50] all vertue, in that he confessed not that onely to be good which is honest: and the o∣ther, in that if pleasure were supposed and set downe to be the end of good things, he thought not that all vertues except onely Justice might subsist and be maintained? what a woonderfull liberty, and monstrous licentiousnesse rather is this, in discoursing of one and the same subject matter, to tax and reproove that in Aristotle, which he setteth downe himselfe: and afterwards in accusing Plato, to subvert and undo the very same? And yet in his demonstrations, as touch∣ing Justice, he affirmeth expresly that every perfect duety, is a lawfull deed and a just action.

Now, whatsoever is performed by continence, by patience, by prudence, or by fortitude is a per∣fect duty, ergo, it followeth, that it is likewise a lawfull action. How chanceth it then that he leaveth not justice for them, in whom he admitteth prudence, continence, and valour, consider∣ing that all the acts which they performe according to these vertues, be perfect duties, and by consequence just and lawfull operations?

Whereas Plato, in a certeine place hath written, that injustice being a certaine intestine sedi∣tion and corruption of the soule, never casteth off and loseth her power even in those who have it within them: for she causeth a wicked man to fight with himselfe, she troubleth, vexeth, and tormenteth him. Chrysippus reproving this assertion of his, saith, that it was falsely and absurdly spoken, that any one could doe wrong or injurie to himselfe: For (quoth he) all injurie and [ 10] outrage must needs be to another: but afterwards forgetting himselfe and what he had said, in that treatise of his entituled, The demōstrations of justice, he affirmeth, that whosoever doth in∣justice, wrongeth himselfe, and in offering injurie to another, doth himselfe wrong, in that he is the very cause why himselfe transgresseth the lawes: wherein unworthily he hurteth and woun∣deth his owne person. Lo what he said against Plato, discoursing that injustice could not be against a mans selfe, but against another: For to be perticularly and privately unjust, there must (quoth he) be many such as speake contrary one unto another: and otherwise this word injustice is taken as if it were amongst many that are in such fort injuriously affected one to another: wheras no such matter can properly and fitly argree to one alone, but in as much as he is so dis∣posed and affected to another. But contrary to all this, in his demonstrations he argueth and [ 20] reasoneth thus, to prove that the injust man doth wrong and injury to himselfe: The law (quoth he) followeth expresly, to be the author or cause of transgression; but to commit injustice is a transgression: he therefore who causeth himselfe to doe injury, transgresseth the law of himselfe. Now be that trespasseth against any one, doth him wrong and injurie: he therefore who wron∣geth any other whomsoever, doth injure to himselfe. Againe, sinne is of the kinde of hurts and dammages that are done; but every man that sinneth, offendeth and sinneth against himselfe: and therefore, whosoever sinneth, hurteth also and endamageth himselfe unwoorthi∣ly; and if he doe so, then by consequence he must needs wrong himselfe. Furthermore, thus also hee reasoneth: Hee that suffereth hurt and dammage by another, woundeth and offen∣deth himselfe withall unworthily: and what is that else but to doe wrong and injury? he there∣fore [ 30] that receiveth injury of any other whatsoever, wrongeth his owne selfe. That the doc∣trine of good things and evill (which himselfe bringeth in and approoveth) he saith, is most ac∣cordant unto mans life, yea and connexed as much as any thing else with those prenotions and anticipations which by nature are inbred and ingenerate in us: for, so much hath he deli∣vered in his third booke of Exhortations: but in the first booke he affirmeth quite contrary, that this doctrine doth divert and withdraw a man from all things else, as if they were of no moment nor helpefull and effectuall any jot to the atteining of happinesse & soveraigne felicity. See how he accordeth herein with himselfe, when he affirmeth that doctrine of his which plucketh us a∣way from life, from health, from indolence and integrity of senses; and teacheth besides that whatsoever we crave in our praiers at gods hands, concerne us not at all nor appertaine unto us, [ 40] to be most accordant unto humane life, and the common prenotions & inbred anticipations of knowledge abovesaid. But to the end that no man might denie that he is repugnant and con∣trary to himselfe, loe what he saith in his third booke of justice. This is it (quoth he) that by rea∣son of the surpassing grandure & beawty of our sentences, those matters which we deliver, seeme feined tales and devised fables exceeding mans power and farre beyond humane nature. How can it be that any man should more plainly confesse, that he is at war with himselfe, than he doth who saith that his propositions and opinions, are so extravagant and transcendent, that they re∣semble counterfeit tales, and for their exelency surmount the condition and nature of man: and yet forsooth for all this, that they accord and agree passing well with humane life, yea and come neerest unto the said inbred prenotions and anticipations that are in us. [ 50]

Hee affirmeth that the very essence and substance of infelicitie, is vice; writing and firmly mainteining in all his books of morall and naturall philosophy, that to live in vice, is as much as to live in misery and wretchednesse: but in the third booke of Nature, having said before that it were better and more expedient to live a senselesse foole, yea though there were no hope that ever he should become wise, than not to live at all, he addeth afterwards thus much: For there be such good things in men, that in some sort the very evill things goe before, and are better than the indifferent in the middes betweene. As for this, how he hath written elswhere, that there is

nothing expedient and profitable in fooles, and yet in this place setteth downe in plaine termes, that it is expedient to live foolish and senselesse, I am content to overpasse; but seeing hee saith now that evill things goe before, and one better than the indifferent or meane (which with them of his sect are neither good nor ill) surely it is as much as if hee affirmed that evill things are better than things not evill: and all are, as to say that to be wretched is more expedient than not to be wretched: and so by that meanes, he is of opinion, that not to be miserable is more unprofitable than to be miserable; and if it be more unprofitable, than also it must be more hurtfull and dammageable. But being desirous in some sort to mollifie this absurditie, and to salve this sore, he subnexeth as touching evill things, these words: My meaning is not (quoth he) that they should go before and be preferred, but reason is the thing wherewith it is better to [ 10] live, although a man should ever be a foole, than not to live at all. First and formost then, hee calleth vice an evill thing, as also whatsoever doth participate of vice and nothing els: now is vice reasonable, or rather to speake more properly, reason delinquent: so that to live with rea∣son, if we be fooles and void of wisdome, what is it els, but to live with vice? now to live as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 , is all one as to live wretched. Wherein is it then, and how commeth it about, that this should go before meane and indifferent things? for it was not admitted that happie life should go be∣fore miserie: neither was it ever any part (say they) of Chrysippus his meaning to range and count among good things, To remaine alive; no more than among bad, To depart this life: but he thought that these things were of themselves indifferent and of a middle nature; in which [ 20] regard otherwhiles it is meet for happy men to leave this life, and for wretches to continue alive. And what greater contrariety can there be, as touching things eligible or refusable, than to say that for them who are happy in the highest degree, it is sit and beseeming to forgoe and for sake the good things that be present, for want of some one thing that is indifferent? And yet Chrysip∣pus is of this minde, that no indifferent thing is of the owne nature to be desired or rejected; but that we ought to chuse that onely which is good, and to shun that alone which is bad: so as ac∣cording to their opinion, it comes to passe, that they never divert their dessignments or actions to the pursute after things desirable, nor the avoidance of things refusable; but another marke it is that they shoot & aime at, namely, at those things which they neither eschue nor chuse, & according thereto, they live & die. Chrysippus avoweth & confesseth that there is as great a dif∣ference [ 30] betweene good things & bad, as possibly may be; as needs there must, in case it be true, that as the one sort of them cause those in whom they are, to be exceeding happy, so the other, extreme wretched & miserable. Now in the first booke of the end of good things, he saith that aswell good things as bad, be sensible; for these be his very words: That good and evill things be perceptible by sense, we must of necessity acknowledge upon these arguments: for not onely the very passions indeed of the minde, together with their parts and severall kinds, to wit, sad∣nesse, feare and such like, be sensible; but also a man may have a sense of theft, adultery, and sem∣blable sinnes; yea and of follie, of cowardise, and in one word, of all other vices, which are in number not a few: and not onely joy, beneficence, and other dependances of vertuous offices, but also prudence, valour and the rest of the vertues, are object to the sense. But to let passe all [ 40] other absurdities conteined in these words, who will not confesse, but that there is a meere con∣tradiction in that which they delivered, as touching one that becomes a wise man, and knowes not thereof? for, considering that the present good is sensible, and much different from that which is evill, that one possibly should of a wicked person proove to be vertuous, and not know thereof, & not have sense of vertue being present, but to thinke that vice is still within him; how can this otherwise be, but most absurd? for either no man can be ignorant and out of doubt, whether he hath all vertues together; or els he must confesse, that there is small difference and the same hard to be discerned, betweene vice and vertue, felicity and infelicity, a right honest life, and a most dishonest, in case a man should passe from the one to the other, and possesse one for the other, without ever knowing it.

One worke he wrote, entituled, Of lives, and the same divided into foure books: in the fourth [ 50] whereof, he saith, That a wise man medleth not with great affaires, but is occupied in his owne businesse onely, without being curious to looke into other mens occasions: his very words to this purpose, be these; For mine owne part, of this opinion I am, that a prudent man gladly a∣voideth a stirring life, intermedleth little, and in his owne matters onely: for to deale simply in a mans owne affaires, and to enter into little businesse in the world, be both alike commendable parts, and the properties of civill and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persons. And in maner the same speeches or ve∣ry

like thereto, he hath delivered in the third booke of such things as be expetible and to be cho∣sen for themselves, in these termes: For in truth (quoth he) it seemeth, that the quiet life should be without danger, and in perfect security, which few or none of the vulgar sort are able to com∣prehend and understand. Wherein first and formost, it is evident, that he commeth very neere to the errour of Epicurus, who in the government of the world disavoweth divine providence: for that he would have God to rest in repose, idle, and not emploied in any thing. And yet Chrysippus himselfe, in his first booke of Lives saith: That a wise man willingly will take a king∣dome upon him, yea, and thinke to make his gaine and profit thereby: and if he be not able to reigne himselfe, yet he will at leastwise converse and live with a king, yea, goe foorth with him to warre, like as Hydanthyrsus the Scythian did, and Leucon of Pontus. But I will set downe his [ 10] owne words, that we may see whether, like as of the treble and base strings, there ariseth a con∣sonance of an eight; so there be an accord in the life of a man, who hath chosen to live quietly without doing ought, or at leastwise to intermeddle in few affaires, yea, and yet afterwards ac∣companieth the Scythians riding on horsebacke, and manageth the affaires of the kings of Bos∣phorus upon any occasion of need that may be presented? For as touching this point (quoth he) that a wise man will go into warlike expeditions with princes, live, and converse with them, we will consider againe thereof heereafter; being as it is, a thing that as some upon the like ar∣guments imagine not, so we for the semblable reasons admit and allow. And a little after: Not onely with those who have proceeded well in the knowledge of vertue, and beene sufficiently in∣stituted and trained up in good maners, as were Hydanthyrsus and Leucon abovesaid. Some there [ 20] be who blame Calisthenes for that he passed over the seas to king Alexander into his campe, in hope to reedifie the city Olynthus, as Artstotle caused the city Stagyra to be repaired, who highly commend Ephorus, Xenocrates and Menedemus, who rejected Alexander: But Chry∣sippus driveth his wise man by the head forward, for his gaine and profit, as farre as to the city Panticapaeum, and the deserts of Scythia. And that this is (I say) for his gaine & profit he shewed before, by setting downe three principall meanes, beseeming a wise man for to practise and seeke his gaine by: the first by a kingdome, and the beneficence of kings; the second by his friends; and the third besides these, by teaching literature: and yet in many places he wearieth us with citing this verse of Euripides:

For what need mortall men take paine? [ 30] Onely for things in number * 1.1 twaine.

But in his books of Nature he saith: That a wise man if he have lost the greatest riches that may be, esteemeth the losse no more than if it were but a single denier of silver, or one grey groat. Howbeit, him whom he hath there so highly extolled and pussed up with glory, heere hee ta∣keth downe and abaseth as much, even to make him a meere mercenary pedante, and one that is faine to teach a schoole: for he would have him to demaund and exact his salary sometime before hand of his scholar, when he enters into his schoole; and otherwhile after a certeine pre∣fixed time of his schooling is come and gone: And this (quoth hee) is the honester and more civill way of the twaine; but the other is the furer, namely, to make him pay his mony afore∣hand; for that delay and giving attendance is subject to receive wrong and susteine losse: and [ 40] thus much he uttereth in these very termes: Those teachers that be of the wiser sort, cal for their schoolage and minervals of their scholars, not all after one maner, but diversly: a number of them, according as the present occasion requireth, who promise not to make them wise men, and that within a yeere; but undertake to doe what lies in them, within a set time agreed up∣on betweene them. And soone after, speaking of his wise man: He will (quoth he) know the best time, when to demaund his pension, to wit, whether incontinently upon the entrance of his scholar, as the most part do; or to give day, and set downe a certeine time; which maner of dea∣ling is more subject to receive injurie, howsoever it may seeme more honest and civill. And how can a wise man, tell me now, be a despiser of money, in case hee make a contract and bar∣gaine at a price to receive money, for delivering vertue; or if he doe not deliver it, yet require [ 50] his salary neverthelesse, as if he he had performed his part fully? Either how can he be greater than to susteine a losse and damage, if it be so that he stand so strictly upon this point, and be so warie, that he receive no wrong by the paiment of his wages? For surely no man is said to bee injuried, who is not hurt nor endamaged: and therefore how ever otherwise he hath flatly de∣nied, that a wise man could receive warning; yet in this booke he saith, that this maner of dea∣ling, is exposed to losse and damage.

In his booke of Common-wealth, he affirmeth, that his citizens will never doe any thing for pleasure, no nor addresse and prepare themselves therefore, praising highly Euripides for these verses:

What need men, but for two things, onely swinke? Bread for to eat, and water shere to drinke.

And soone after, he proceedeth forward, and praiseth Diogenes, for abusing himselfe, by forcing his nature to passe from him in the open street, and saying withall to those that stood by: Oh, that I could chase hunger as well from my belly. What reason then is there, in the selfesame bookes to commend him for rejecting pleasure, and withall for defiling his owne body as hee did, so beastly in the sight of the whole world, and that for a little filthy pleasure? In his books [ 10] of Nature, having written that nature had produced and brought foorth many living creatures for beauty onely, as delighting and taking pleasure in such lovely varietie, and therewith ha∣ving adjoined moreover a most strange and absurd speech, namely, that the peacocke was made for his tailes sake, and in regard of the beauty thereof: cleane contrary to himselfe, in his books of Common-wealth, he reprooveth very sharpely those who keepe peacocks and nightingals, as if he would make lawes quite contrary to that soveraigne law-giver of the world, deriding na∣ture for taking delight, and employing as it were her study in bringing foorth such creatures; unto which a wise man wil give no place in his city and common-wealth. For how can it other∣wise be but monstrous and absurd for to finde fault with those who nourish such creatures, as if it were wantonnesse so to doe, in case he praise the divine providence for creating them? In his [ 20] fift booke of Nature, after he had shewed that wal-lice or punaises serve in good stead to awa∣ken us out of sleepe, as also that mice advertise us to beware and take heed where we lay up and bestow every thing; and that it is probable that nature taketh pleasure in producing faire creatures, and joieth in diversitie, he commeth out with this sentence word for word: This ap∣peereth most evidently in the peacocks taile: for heere he signifieth that this bird was made for the tailes sake, and not contrariwise; and so when the cocke was once created, the hen followed after.

In his booke of common-wealth when he had said, that we are come almost to the painting of dung-hils, a little after: There be some (quoth he) who adorne & embelish their corn-fields, with vines climbing and growing upon trees, ranged directly in order, as also with myrtle rowes; [ 30] who nourish also peacocks and doves, yea and partridges, for to heare them cal and record unto them, as also nightingales for their pleasant song. But I would gladly know of him, what hee thinketh, and what his conceit is of bees and of hony; for it would by good consequence fol∣low, that he who had said, that punaises and wal lice were profitably created; should also in∣ferre that bees were made for no profit. Now if he allowed these a place in his Common∣wealth, how is it that he forbiddeth his citizens to enterteine those things which delight the eare. To be briefe, like as he were very absurd who should find fault with those guests at a feast, who fell to eat comfits, and sweet banketting conceits, to drinke wine also, and to feed of de∣licate viands; and in the meane while commend the man who invited them to such dainties, and provided the same for them: even so, he who praising the divine providence for creating [ 40] delicate fishes, deinty birds, sweet hony, and pleasant wine, should reproove those who reject not these gifts, nor be content to eat bare bread, and drinke sheere water, things that be ever at hand, and which are sufficient for our food, were as farre out of reason, and makes no reckoning at all how he doth contradict himselfe, and what contrary opinions he holdeth.

Moreover, having in his treatise of Exhortations said, that it was no reason, that folke should be defamed or blamed, for having to doe carnally with their owne mothers, daughters, or si∣sters; for eating any kinde of meats whatsoever, for going directly out of the bed from a wo∣man, or from a dead body and mortuarie, unto a temple or sacrifice: And heerein (quoth he) we ought to have a regard and eie unto brute beasts, and taking example by them, to collect and conclude, that in all this, there is no absurdity at all, nor any thing against nature; for fitly [ 50] and to the purpose very well a man may alledge this, and compare the usage of other creatures, to shew that they neither being coupled together nor engendring, no nor dying in temples, do pollute and defile the divinitie. Contrary to all this, in the fift booke of nature he saith: That the poet Hesiodus did very well to admonish and forbid us, not to pisse into fountaines, nor running rivers; yea, and much rather to forbeare to make water against an altar, or any image and statue of the gods: neither mattereth, or skilleth it all, if dogs, affes, and yoong children, doe so, seeing they have no discretion nor consideration in such things: and therefore it is

very absurd to say in one place: That it is meet to consider the savage example of wilde beasts; and in another, as absurde to alledge the same.

Some philosophers there be, who imagine a certeine accessary motion from without in the principall part of our soule; for that a man seemeth to give the head and liberty unto divers in∣clinations, when he is forced to a thing by outward causes: which motion appeereth prin∣cipally in doubtfull and variable things; for when of two objects equall in power, and eve∣ry way semblable, we are of necessity to chuse one, and there is no cause at all to incline us more to the one than to the other, this foresaid accessary and adventitious puissance, com∣ming in otherwise, and seazing upon the inclination of the soule, decideth all the doubt. Against these philosophers, Chrysippus disputing, as if they did violence to nature by the con∣trary, [ 10] and by devising an effect without a cause; among sundry other examples, alledgeth the cockall bone, the balance, and many such like things which cannot fall, incline and bend now on one side, and then on another, without some cause & difference which is entirely in them, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 commeth from without forth: for this is generally held; that whatsoever is without cause can have no subsistence, no more than meere hazard and chance: but in these adventitions and accessarie motions which they suppose, there be certeine hidden irreptitious causes, which se∣credy moove and induce our appetite and inclination, even without our knowledge to one part or other: and this is that which he often repeateth in the most notable works that he hath put forth; but that which himselfe afterward delivereth cleane contrary, because it is not exposed so openly to the view of the whole world, I will alledge verbatim as he hath delivered it: For in his [ 20] treatise concerning the office of a Judge, supposing for example sake, that two curriers who ranne a course, were come both together unto the goale, he demandeth what the Judge should doe in this case; namely, whether it were lawfull for him, to give unto whether of them hee pleased, the victorious branch of the date tree? this being supposed withall, that they were both so inward & familiar with him, that he should rather gratifie them both, even out of his owne in some sort, than seeme to defraud either of them of the victorious garland, which seemeth to be common to them both: Whether (I say) it be lawfull for him to encline unto one or to the other, and so award the victory as if they had drawen lots therefore: To encline (I say) casually & without any reason; like as when two groates are presented unto us, every way semblable one to the other, we incline rather to that which we take. And in the sixt booke of Duties, having said, [ 30] that there be certeine things that require no great adoo, nor intentive consideration, hee is of opinion, that in such cases we are to yeeld the choise into the casuall propension of the minde, even as to the adventerous hazard of a lot: as for example; if the question be to make triall of the said two groates, one saith, this is the better, and another that: but for that we are to take one of the twaine, without more adoo and farther triall of their betternesse, we take that which comes first; and in another place he saith: in putting this to the aventure of a lot, it falleth out otherwhiles, that wee hit upon the woorse: in these places the casuall inclination of the minde, to the first object, and the putting of the matter to the hazard of a lot, is nothing else but to bring in a choise of things indifferent without any cause.

In the third booke of Logique, having premised thus much, that Plato, Aristotle and their [ 40] successours and disciples even as farre as to Polemon and Straton, had bestowed great study and travelled much therein: but above all others, Socrates, with this addition, that a man would wish with so many and such noble personages to erre for company: he commeth in afterwards with these words: If they had (quoth he) treated and discoursed hereof cursarily or by the way, a man haply might laugh at this place well enough: but since that they have so seriously and exactly disputed of Logique, as if it were one of the greatest faculties and most necessarie sciences, it is not like that they were so grosly deceived, being men throughout all the parts of philosophy, so singular as we repute them to be. How is it then, may a man reply and say, that you neverrest baying and barking at these so woorthy and excellent personages, and convincing them as you suppose to have erred? For there is no likelihood that they writing so diligently and exactly as [ 50] they have done of Logique, should of the principles and elements, of the end of good things, of Justice and the gods, write carelessely and after a loose maner, howsoever you are disposed to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their treatises and discourses, blinde, repugnant to themselves, and stuffed with an infinit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of faults and errors. In one place he denieth that the vice 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say a joy to see evill happen unto another, hath any being or reall subsistence: For that (quoth he) no good man was ever knowen to rejoice at the harme of another: but in his second booke as touching Good, having declared what Envie is, namely a griefe for another mans well fare: because

men are desirous to detract and debase their neighbours, to the end they might be superiours themselves: he addeth afterwards, the joy for another mans harme, and that in these words: An∣nexed thereunto (quoth he) is the joy for another mans harme, because men are desirous that their neighbours about them, should be brought low for the like causes: but when they decline and turne to other naturall affections, there is engendred Pity and Mercie: In which words it appeareth that he ordaineth 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 to be a thing really subsistent as well as envie and pittie, which notwithstanding elsewhere he said had no being at all in the world no more than the ha∣tred of wickednesse or the desire of filthy lucre.

Having in many places affirmed, that men are never a whit more happie, for long continu∣ance of felicity, but that they be still as happy who enjoy felicity but one minute of an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 : in [ 10] as many other places againe he avoucheth the contrary, saying that a man should not so much as put forth his finger for a transitory and momentany prudence, which endureth but a while, & passeth away like unto the flash and leame of a lightening. But it shal suffice to relate the very words, which he hath written in his sixth booke of morall questions as touching this matter: for when he had premised thus much, that every good thing doth not cause equall joy, nor all vertuous duties like vantery, he commeth after with these words: For if a man is to have pru∣dence one moment of time, or the last daie onely of his life, he should not so much as hold up or stretch out his finger for a prudence that lasteth so small a while: although no man is said to be the more blessed for long continuance of happinesse, neither is eternall beatitude more expetible or desirable, than that which passeth away within a minute of an houre. Now if he [ 20] had thought that prudence were a good thing bringing forth blessednesse, as Epicurus did, a man could have found fault with nothing else but the absurdity onely of so strange an opinion and paradox. But seeing that prudence is no other thing than beatitude, of it selfe, and even very felicity, how can it be avoided that herein there should not be a contradiction and repug∣nancy of speech, namely, to say that transitory happinesse is as eligible and as much to be de∣sired, as that which is perpetuall: and to hold, that the felicity of one moment is worth naught

He affirmeth that vertues doe follow and accompany one another not onely in this respect, that he who hath one, hath likewise all the rest, but also in this that he who worketh by one, wor∣keth with all according to the other: neither (saith he) is any man perfect, unlesse he be posses∣sed of all vertues. Howbeit in the sixt booke of morall questions, Chrysippus saith that neither a [ 30] good and honest man doth alwaies beare himselfe valiantly, nor a naughty man behave himselfe cowardly, for that as certeine objects be presented into mens fantasies, it behooveth one man to persevere and persist in his judgements, and another to forsake and relinquish the same: for probable he saith it is that even the wicked man is not alwaies lascivious. Now in case it be so, that to be a valiant man, is as much as to shew valour, and to be a coward, the same that to use cowardise, they speake contraries who affirme, that a naughty person practising one vice, wor∣keth by all together: and that a valiant man useth not alwaies valour, nor a dastard cowardise.

He denieth Rhetorique to be an art, as touching the ornament, dispose and order of an ora∣tion pronounced: and besides in the first booke he hath thus written: And in mine opinion re∣quisit it is to have not onely a regard of an honest, decent & simple adorning of words, but al∣so [ 40] a care of proper gestures, actions, pauses and staies of the voice, as also a meet conformation of the countenance and the hands. Being as you see thus exquisit and curious in this passage: yet in the same booke cleare contrary, having spoken of the collision of vowels, and hitting one of them upon another: We are not only (quoth he) to neglect this, and to thinke of that which is of greater moment and importance but also to let passe certeine obscurities and defects, solaecismes also and incongruities, of which many others would be ashamed. Now one while to permit and allow such exquisit curiosity in the orderly dispose of a manstongue, even as far as to the decent setting of the countenance and gesture of the hands: and another while not to bash at the committing of grosse incongruities, defects and obscurities, is the property of a [ 50] man who cares not what he saith, but speakes whatsoever comes in his head.

Over and besides in his naturall positions, treating of those things which require the view of the eie and experience, after he had given warning that we should go warily to worke, and not rashly yeeld our assent thereto, he saith, Let us not therefore be of Platoes opinion, to thinke that our liquid food, to wit, our drinke, passeth directly to the lungs, and our dry nourish∣ment, that is, our meat, into the stomacke; neither let us fall into such like errours as these. For mine owne part, thus I thinke, That for a man to reprehend others, and afterwards to incurre the same faults and errours which he reproved, is the greatest repugnancy and contrariety that may

be, and the foulest and most shamefull fault of all others. And verily himselfe saith, that the connexions which are made by the ten principall Axiomes, that is to say, Propositions, ex∣ceed in number ten hundred thousand; when as neither he had by himselfe diligently enough enquired and searched into the thing, nor by other men well exercised in that art of Arethme∣ticke, attained to the trueth. And yet Plato had to testifie on his side, the most renowmed Phy∣sicians that were, namely, Hippocrates, Philistion and Dioxippus the disciple of Hippocrates: also of Poets, Euripides, Alcaeus, Eupolis and Eratosthenes, who all with one voice affirme, that the drinke passeth by the lungs. And as for all the Arithmeticians well practised in the knowledge of numbers, they reprove Chrysippus: and Hipparchus among the rest, proving and shewing that in the foresaid speech of his, he erred most grosly in his computation, if it be true that the affir∣mative [ 10] maketh of the said ten Axiomes to the number of 103049 connexions, and the nega∣tive 952, over and above three hundred and ten thousands. Some of the ancients said of Zeno that it befel unto him as unto one who had sowre wine of his owne, which he could not sell and, make away either for vineger or wine: for, that precedent of his which they call 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could not put off neither for a thing that is good, nor so much as indifferent. But Chrysippus hath made the matter farre more intricate and different: for in some passages of his, he saith, that they are starke mad, who make no account of riches, health, voidnesse of paine and integri∣ty of the body, nor care how to attaine thereto; and having alledged this verse out of Hesiodus,

O Perses, borne of noble race, Thy businesse plie, and worke apace. [ 20]

he addeth thereto and saith, it were meere madnesse to advise the contrarie, and say,

O Perses, borne of noble race, Plie not thy worke in any case.

And in his treatise of Lives he writeth, that a wise man will court it with kings and princes, if he may raise his commoditie and gaine thereby; yea, he will keepe a schoole and teach for mo∣ney, taking of some scholars his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aforehand, and bargaining with others for a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time. Also in the seventh booke of his offices, he saith, that he will not sticke to tumble downe upon his head, and that three times, so he may be sure to have a talent for his labour. In his first booke of Good things, he permitteth and granteth unto whosoever will, to call those 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or precedents aforesaid, Good, and the contrary thereto, Bad, in these very tearmes: If a man list (quoth he) according to such premutations as these, he may call one thing good unto him∣selfe, [ 30] and another thing ill; so as he have an eie and regard unto the things, and wander not in∣considerately, nor faile in the understanding of things signified, but otherwise accommodate himselfe to the use and custome of the denomination. Having thus in this place set his Prece∣dent so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and linked it with Good; in other passages he saith cleane contrary, that none of all this concerneth us at all, but reason doth divert and plucke us quite away from all such things: for, so much hath he set downe in his first booke of Exhortations. But in the third booke of Nature, he saith, that some kings and rich persons are reputed blessed and happie; which is as much as if they were to be accounted happy, who made water in golden chamber pots, or swept the floure with the golden traines of their costly robes. But a good man, if he lose his whole pa∣trimonie [ 40] and all his estate, weigheth it no more than the losse of a grote or single denier, and maketh no greater matter of sicknesse, than of stumbling or tripping alittle with his foot. And therefore, filled he hath with such contrarieties, not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 onely, but also providence. For ver∣tue will appeare exceeding base, mechanicall and foolish, if it be emploied in things so vile and contemptible, commanding a man to saile for them as farre as to Bosporus, yea and to throw himselfe upon his head. And Jupiter is very ridiculous, delighting to be called either Ctesius, that is to say, The enricher and donor of possessions, or Epicar pius, that is to say, The giver of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 , or Charidotes, that is to say, The gratifier and authour of favours: for that unto leawd and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persons he affoordeth golden chamber pots, and robes garded and bordered round 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with golde; but vouchsafeth unto good men, trash hardly woorth a grote, when [ 50] they are become rich through the providence of Jupiter. And yet Apollo is much more ridicu∣lous, if it be so, that he sits giving answeres and oracles as touching golden chamber pots, gards and fringes of gold, yea and the tripping and stumbling of the foot. This repugnance and con∣trarietie they make more evident and apparent still by their demonstration: For that (〈◊〉〈◊〉 they) which may be well or ill used, is neither good nor bad. Now, certeine it is, that all evill and foolish persons use riches, health and strength of the body, amisse; and therefore none of these may be called Good. If then, God give not vertue unto men, but Honesty commeth of it

selfe, and yet bestoweth riches and health without vertue, surely it is upon them who will not use the same well but ill, that is to say, unprofitably, shamefully and mischievously. And verily if the gods can give vertue, they are not good if they doe not: and againe, if they can not make good men, neither are they able to helpe them any way, considering, that without it, there is no∣thing good nor profitable. For, to say that the gods judge those to be good by vertue and by strength, who are otherwise good than by them, is to no purpose, but a vaine conceit: for even so good men do judge the evill by vertue and by strength: so that by this reckoning, they profit men no more, than they be profited by men. And verily Chrysippus judgeth neither himselfe to be a good man, nor any either of his scholars or teachers. What is their opinion then, think you, of others, if it be not that which themselves say, namely, that they are mad and senselesse [ 10] fooles, that they be miscreants and infidels, lawlesse, and in one word, come to the very heighth and pitch of all infelicitie and miserie? And yet forsooth they hold, that men so wretched and unhappie as they be, are notwithstanding governed and ruled by divine providence. Now, if the gods, changing their minde, should determine to hurt, afflict, plague, destroy and crush us quite, they could not bring us to a woorse state and condition, than wherein we are already; ac∣cording as Chrysippus saith, That mans life can not be brought to a lower ebbe, nor be in woorse plight and case than now it is, insomuch as if it had a tongue and voice to speake, it would pro∣nounce these words of Hercules:

Of miseries (to say I dare be bold) So full I am, that more I can not hold. [ 20]

And what assertions or sentences may a man possibly finde more contrary and repugnant one against another, than those of Chrysippus, as touching both gods and men, when he saith, That the gods are most provident over men, and carefull for their best; and men notwithstanding are in as wofull state as they may be?

Certeine Pythagoreans there are, who blame him much, for that in his booke of Justice he hath written of dunghill cocks, that they were made and created profitable for mans use: For (quoth he) they awaken us out of our sleepe, and raise us to our worke; they hunt, kill and de∣voure scorpions; with their fighting they animate us to battell, imprinting in our hearts an ar∣dent desire to shew valour: and yet eat them we must, for feare that there grow upon us more [ 30] pullaine, than we know what otherwise to do withall. And so farre foorth mocketh he and scor∣neth those who finde fault with him for delivering such sentences, that he writeth thus in his third booke of the Gods, as touching Jupiter the Saviour, Creatour and Father of justice, law, equity and peace: And like as cities (quoth he) and great townes, when they be over full of peo∣ple, deduct and send from thence certeine colonies, and begin to make warre upon some other nations; even so God sendeth the causes that breed plague and mortalitie: to which purpose he citeth the testimony of Euripides and other authours, who write that the Trojan warre was raised by the gods, for to discharge and disburden the world of so great a multitude of men wherewith it was replenished. As for all other evident absurdities delivered in these speeches, I let passe, for my purpose is not to search into all that which they have said or written amisse, but [ 40] onely into their contradictions and contrarieties to themselves. But consider, I pray you, how Chrysippus hath alwaics attributed unto the gods the goodliest names and most plausible termes that can be devised; but contrariwise, most savage, cruell, inhumane, barbarous and Galatian deeds. For such generall mortalities and carnages of men, as the Trojan warre first brought, and afterwards the Median and Peloponnesiacke warres, are nothing like unto colonies that ci∣ties send forth to people and inhabit other places; unlesse haply one would say, That such mul∣titudes of men that die by warre and pestilence, know of some cities founded for them in hell and under the ground to be inhabited. But Chrysippus maketh God like unto Deiotarus the king of Galatia, who having many sonnes, and minding to leave his realme and roiall estate unto one of them and no more, made away & killed all the rest besides him, to the end that he being left alone, might be great and mightie: like as if one should prune and cut away all the branches of [ 50] a vine, that the maine stocke might thrive and prosper the better: and yet the cutter of the vine disbrancheth it when the shoots be yoong, small and tender: and we also take away from a bitch many of her whelps when they be so yoong as that they can not yet see, for to spare the damme: whereas 〈◊〉〈◊〉 who hath not onely suffered and permitted men to grow unto their perfect age, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 given them himselfe their nativitie and growth, punisheth them and pla∣gueth them afterwards, devising sundry meanes, and preparing many occasions of their death and destruction, when as indeed he should rather have not given unto them the causes and prin∣ciples

of their generation and birth. Howbeit, this is but a small matter in comparison; and more grievous is that which I will now say; for there are no warres bred among men, but by oc∣casion of some notable vice; seeing the cause of one is fleshly pleasure; of another, avarice; and of a third, ambition and desire of rule. And therefore, if God be the authour of warres, he is by consequence, the cause of wickednesse, and doth provoke, excite and pervert men: and yet him∣selfe in his treatise of judgement, yea and his second booke of the Gods, writeth that it stands to no sense and reason that God should be the cause of any wicked and dishonest things. For like as the lawes are never the cause of breaking and violating the lawes, no more are gods of im∣pietie: so that there is no likelihood at all that they should move and cause men to commit any foule and dishonest fact. Now what can there be more dishonest, than to procure and raise [ 10] some to worke the ruine and perdition of others, and yet Chrysippus saith, that God ministreth the occasions and beginnings thereof. Yea, but he contrariwise (will one say) commendeth Euripides, for saying thus:

If Gods do ought that lewd and filthy is, They are no more accounted Gods, iwis.

And againe,

Soone said that is: Mens faults t'excuse, Nothing more ready than Gods t' accuse.

as if forsooth we did any thing els now, but compare his words and sentences together that be opposit and meere contrary one unto another. And yet this sentence which now is heere com∣mended, [ 20] to wit,

Soone said that is, &c.

we may alledge against Chrysippus, not once, nor twice nor thrice, but ten thousand times. For first, in his treatise of Nature, having likened the eternity of motion to a drench or potion made confusedly of many herbs and spices, troubling and turning all things that be engendred, some after one sort and some after another, thus he saith, Seeing it is so, that the government and ad∣ministration of the universall world proceedeth in this sort, necessary it is that according to it we be disposed in that maner as we are; whether it be that we are diseased against our owne na∣ture, maimed or disinembred, Grammarians or Musicians. And againe, soone after, accor∣ding to this reason, we may say the like of our vertue or vice, and generally of the knowledge or [ 30] ignorance of arts, as I have already said. Also within a little after, cutting off all doubt and am∣biguity: There is no particular thing, not the very least that is, which can otherwise happen than according to common nature, and the reason thereof: now that common nature, and the rea∣son of it is fatall destinie, divine providence and Jupiter, there is not one, search even as farre as to the Antipodes, but he knoweth: for this sentence is very rife in their mouthes: And as for this verse of Homer,

And as ech thing thus came to passe, The will of Jove fulfilled was.

he saith that well and rightly he referred all to destiny, and the universall nature of the world, whereby all things are governed. How is it possible then, that these two positions should sub∣sist [ 40] together, namely, that God is in no wise the cause of any dishonest thing: and, that there is nothing in the world be it never so little that is done, but by common nature, and according to the reason thereof? For surely, among all those things that are done, necessarily there must be things dishonest: and yet Epicurus turneth and windeth himselfe on every side, imagining and devising all the subtill shifts that he can to unloose, set free, and deliver our voluntary free will from this motion eternall, because he would not leave vice excuseable & without just repre∣hension; whereas in the meane while he openeth a wide window unto it, and giveth it libertie to plead: That committed it is not onely by the necessitie of destiny, but also by the reason of God, and according to the best nature that is. And thus much also moreover is to be seene written word forword: For considering that common nature reacheth unto al causes; it cannot [ 50] otherwise be, but all that is done, howsoever, and in what part soever of the world, must be ac∣cording to this common nature, and the reason thereof, by a certeine stint of consequence without impeachment; for that there is nothing without, that can impeach the administrati∣on thereof, neither mooveth any part, or is disposed in habitude otherwise, than according to that common nature. But what habitudes and motions of the parts are these? Certeine it is that the habitudes be the vices and maladies of the minds, as covetousnesse, lecherie, ambition, cowardise, and injustice: as for the motions, they be the acts proceeding from thence, as adul∣teries,

thefts, treasons, manslaughters, murders, and parricides, Chrysippus now is of opinion, That none of all these, be they little or great, is done without the reason of Jupiter, or against law, justice, and providence: insomuch as to breake law, is not against law; to wrong another, is not against justice; nor to commit sinne against providence. And yet he affirmeth, that God punisheth vice, and doth many things for the punishment of the wicked. As for example, in the second booke of the gods: Otherwhiles there happen (quoth he) unto good men grievous calamities, not by way of punishment, as to the wicked, but by another kinde of oeconomy and disposition, like as it falleth out usually unto cities. Againe, in these words: First, we are to understand, evill things and calamities as we have said heeretofore; then to thinke, that distri∣buted they are according to the reason and dispose of Jupiter, either by way of punishment, or [ 10] else by some other oeconomie of the whole world. Now surely, this is a doctrine hard to bee digested, namely, that vice being wrought by the disposition and reason of God, is also puni∣shed thereby: howbeit, this contradiction he doeth still aggravate and extend in the second booke of Nature, writing thus: But vice in regard of grievous accidents, hath a certeine peculiar reason by it selfe: for after a sort it is committed by the common reason of nature, and as I may so say, not unprofitably in respect of the universall world: for otherwise than so, there were no good things at all: and then proceeding to reproove those who dispute pro & contra, and discourse indifferently on both parts, he (I meane) who upon an ardent desire tobroch alwaies and in every matter some novelties & exquisite singularities above all other, saith, It is not un∣profitable, to cut purses, to play the sycophants, or commit loose, dissolute, and mad parts: no [ 20] more than it is incommodious, that there should be unprofitable members, hurtfull and wret∣ched persons: which if it be so, what maner of god is Jupiter, I meane him, of whom Chrysip∣pus speaketh, in case (I say) he punish a thing, which neither commeth of it selfe, nor unprofi∣tably: for vice according to the reason of Chrysippus were altogether irreprehensible, and Ju∣piter to be blamed, if either he caused vice, as a thing unprofitable, or punished it when he had made it not unprofitably. Moreover, in the first booke of Justice, speaking of the gods, that they oppose themselves against the iniquities of some: But wholly (quoth he) to cut off all vice, is neither possible nor expedient, is it if it were possible, to take away all injustice, all trans∣gression of lawes, and all folly. But how true this is, it perteineth not to this present treatise for [ 30] to enquire and discourse. But himselfe taking away and rooting up all vice as much as lay in him, by the meanes of philosophy, which to extirpe, was neither good nor expedient, doeth heerein that which is repugnant both to reason and also to God. Furthermore, in saying that there be certeine sinnes and iniquities, against which the gods doe oppose themselves, he gi∣veth covertly to understand, that there is some oddes and inequality in sinnes. Over and besides, having written in many places, that there is nothing in the world to be blamed, nor that can be complained of, for that all things are made and finished by a most singular and excellent na∣ture: there be contrariwise, sundry places, wherein hee leaveth and alloweth unto us certeine negligences reprooveable, and those not in small and trifling matters. That this is true, it may appeere in his third book of Substance; where having made mention, that such like negligences might befal unto good & honest men: Commeth this to passe (quoth he) because there be some [ 40] things where of there is no reckoning made, like as in great houses, there must needs be scatte∣red and lost by the way some bran, yea and some few graines of wheat, although in generality the whole besides, is well enough ruled and governed? or is it because there be some evill and malignant spirits, as superintendents over such things, wherein certeinly such negligences are committted, & the same reprehensible? and he saith moreover, that there is much necessitie in∣termingled among. But I meane not hereupon to stand, nor to discourse at large, but to let passe what vanity there was in him, to compare the accidents which befell to some good and vertu∣ous persons, as for example, the condemnation of Socrates, the burning of Pythagoras quicke by the Cylonians, the dolorous torments that Zeno endured under the tyrant Demylus, or those which Antiphon suffred at the hands of Dionysius, when they were by them put to death, [ 50] unto the brans that be spilt and lost in great mens houses. But that there should bee such wicked spirits deputed by the divine providence, to have the charge of such things, must needs redound to the great reproach of God, as if he were some unwise king who committed the go∣vernment of his provinces unto evill captaines and rash headed lieutenants, suffering them to abuse and wrong his best affected subjects, and winking at their rechlesse negligence, having no care or regard at all of them. Againe, if it be so, that there is much necessity and constraint mingled among the affaires of this world, then is not God the soveraigne lord and omnipotent

master of all, neither be all things absolutely governed and ruled by his reason and counsell.

Moreover he mightily opposeth himselfe against Epicurus and those who take from the ad∣ministration of the world divine providence, confuting them, principally by the common no∣tions and conceptions inbred in us as touching the gods, by which perswaded we are that they be gracious benefactours unto men. And for that this is so vulgar and common a thing with them needlesse it is to cite any expresse places to proove the same: And yet by his leave, all na∣tions doe not beleeve that the gods be bountifull and good unto us. For doe but consider what opinion the Jewes and Syrians have of the gods: looke into the writings of Poets, with how many superstitions they be stuffed. There is no man in maner to speake of who imagineth or conceiveth in his minde, that god is either mortall and corruptable, or hath bene begotten: And [ 10] Antipater of Tarsis (to passe others over in silence) in his booke of Gods, hath written thus much word forword. But to the end (quoth he) that this discourse may be more perspicuous and cleare, we will reduce into few words the opinion which we have of God. We understand therefore by God a living nature or substance happie, incorruptible, and a benefactor unto men: and afterwards in expounding each of these tearmes and attributes, thus he saith: And ve∣rily all men doe acknowledge the gods to be immortall. It must needs be then, that by Antipa∣ters saying, Chrysippus of all those, is none. For he doth not thinke any of all the gods to be in∣corruptiblesave Jupiter onely: but supposeth that they were all engendred a like, and that one day they shall all likewise perish. This generally throughout all his bookes doth he deliver: howbeit one expresse passage will I alledge out of his third booke of the gods. After a divers [ 20] sort (quoth he) for some of them are engendred and mortall: others not engendred at all. But the proofe and demonstration here of, if it should be fetched from the head indeed, apperteineth more properly unto the science of Naturall Philosophy. For the Sunne and Moone and other gods of like nature, were begotten: but Jupiter is sempiternall. And againe somewhat after: The like shall be said of Jupiter and other gods, as touching their corruption and generation: for some of them do perish: but as for his parts they be incorruptible. With this I would have you to compare, a little of that which Antipater hath written: Those (quoth he) who deprive the gods of beneficence and well doing, touch but in some part the prenotion and anticipati∣on in the knowledge of them: and by the same reason they also who thinke they participate of generation and corruption. If then he be as much deceived and as absurd, who thinketh that the [ 30] gods be mortall and corruptible, as he who is of opinion that they beare no bountifull and lo∣ving affection toward men, Chrysippus is as farre from the trueth as Epicurus, for that as the one bereaveth God of immortallity and incorruption, so the other taketh from him bounty and li∣berality.

Moreover Chrysippus in his third booke of the gods speaking of this point, and namely how other gods are nourished, saith thus: Other gods (quoth he) use a certaine nourishment, where∣by they are maintained equally: but Jupiter and the world after a nother sort, than those who are engendred, and be consumed by the fire. In which place, he holdeth, that all other gods be nou∣rished, except Jupiter and the world. And in the first booke of Providence, he saith that Jupiter groweth continually untill such a time, as all things be consumed in him. For death being the [ 40] separation of the body and soule, seeing that the soule of the world never departeth at all but augmenteth continually, untill it have consumed all the matter within it, we cannot say that the world dieth. Who could speake more contrary to himselfe, than he who saith that one and the same god is nourished and not nourished? And this we need not to inferre and conclude by necessary consequence, considering that himselfe in the same place hath written it plainly. The world onely (quoth he) is said to be of it selfe sufficient: because it alone hath all in it selfe whereof it standeth in no need, of it selfe it is nourished and augmented, whereas other parts are transmuted and converted one into another. Not onely then is he contradictorie and rupug∣nant to himselfe in that he saith, other gods be nourished, all except the world and Jupiter, but also here in much more, when he saith that the world groweth by nourishing it selfe: whereas [ 50] contrariwise there had bene more reason to say, the world onely is not augmented, having for foode the distruction thereof: but on the contrary side, other gods doe grow and increase, in as much as they have their nourishment from without: and rather should the world be consumed into them, if it be true that the world taketh alwaies from it selfe, and other gods from it. The second point conteined in that common notion and opinion imprinted in us as touching the gods, is that they be blessed, happie and perfect. And therefore men highly praise Euripides for saying thus.

If God 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God indeed and really, He needs none of this poets vertly; His 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in hymnes and verses for to write: Such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wretched are which they endite.

Howbeit our Chrysippus here, in those places by me alledged saith, that the world alone is of it selfe sufficient, as comprehending within it all that it hath need of. What then ariseth upon this proposition, that the world is sole-sufficient in it selfe, but this, that neither the Sun nor the Moone, nor any other of the gods whatsoever is sufficient of it selfe, and being thus insufficient, they cannot be blessed and happie.

Chrysippus is of opinion, that the infant in the mothers wombe, is nourished naturally, no [ 10] otherwise than a plant within the earth; but when it is borne, and by the aire cooled and hard∣ned (as it were) like 〈◊〉〈◊〉 , it mooveth the spirit, and becommeth an animall or living creature; and therefore it is not without good reason, that the soule was called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, in regard of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say, refrigeration. But not forgetetting to be contrary unto himselfe, he supposeth that the soule is the more subtile, rare, and fine spirit of nature: For how is it possible that a subtile thing should be made of that which is grosse, and that a spirit should be rarefied by re∣frigeration and astriction or condensation? Nay, that which more is, how commeth it about, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as he doth the soule of an infant to be engendred by the means of refrigeration, he should thinke the sun to become animat, being as it is of a firy nature, & engendred of an exhalation transmuted into fire? For thus he faith in his third booke of Nature: The mutati∣on [ 20] (quoth he) of fire is in this maner; by the aire it is turned into water, and out of water having earth under it, there ex haleth aire, which aire comming to be subtilized, the fire is produced and environeth it round about; & as for the stars, they are set on fire out of these, together with the sunne; what is more contrary, than to be set on fire and to be cooled? what more opposite to subtilization and rarefaction, than inspissation and condensation? the one maketh water and earth, of fire and aire; the other turneth that which is moist and terrestriall, into fire and aire. And yet in one place he maketh kindling of fire, and in another refrigeration, to bee the cause of quickning and giving soule unto a thing: for when the said firing and inflammation comes generall throughout, then it liveth and is become an annimall creature; but after it commeth to be quenched and thickned, it turneth into water and earth, and so into a corporall substance. [ 30] In the first booke of Providence, he writeth thus: For the world being throughout on fire, pre∣sently it is with all, the soule and governour of it selfe; but when it is turned into moisture and the soule left within it, and is after a sort converted into a soule and body, so as it seemeth com∣pounded of them both, then the case is altered: In which text he affirmeth plainly, that the ve∣ry inanimat parts of the world by exustion and inflammation, turne and change into the soule thereof; and contrariwise by extinction, the soule is relaxed and moistned againe, and so retur∣neth into a corporall nature. Heereupon I inferre that he is very absurd, one while to make of senselesse things, animat and living, by way of refrigeration; and another while to transmure the most part of the soule of the world into insensible and inanimat things.

But over and above all this, the discourse which he maketh as touching the generation of the [ 40] soule, conteineth a proofe & demonstration contrary to his owne opinion; for he saith: That the soule is engendred after that the infant is gone out of the mothers wombe; for that the spi∣rit then is transformed by refrigeration; even as the temper is gotten of steele. Now to prove that the soule is engendred, and that after the birth of the infant, hee bringeth this for a prin∣cipall argument; Because children become like unto their parents in behaviour and natu∣rall inclination; wherein the contrariety that he delivereth is so evident, as that a man may see it by the very eie; for it is not possible that the soule which is engendred after birth, should be framed to the maners and disposition of the parents before nativity; or else we must say (and fall out it will) that the soule before it was in esse, was already like unto a soule; which is all one, as that it was by similitude and resemblance, and yet was not, because as yet it had not a reall sub∣stance: [ 50] Now if any one doe say, that it ariseth from the temperature and complexion of the bodies, that this similitude is imprinted in them, howbeit when the soules are once engendred, they become changed, he shall overthrow the argument and proofe, whereby it is shewed that the soule was engendred; for heereupon it would follow, that the soule although it were inge∣nerable, when it entreth from without into the body, is changed by the temperature of the like.

Chrysippus sometime saith, that the aire is light, that it mounteth upward on high; and other∣whiles

for it againe: that it is neither heavy nor light. To prove this, see what he saith in his se∣cond booke of Motion, namely, that fire having in it no ponderosity at all, ascendeth aloft: semblably the aire; and as the water is more conformable to the earth, so the aire doth rather resemble the fire. But in his booke entituled Naturall arts, he bendeth to the contrary opinion, to wit, that the aire hath neither ponderosity nor lightnesse of it selfe: He affirmeth that the aire by nature is darke, and for that cause by consequence it is also the primitive cold; and that te∣nebrosity or darknesse is directly opposite unto light and cleerenesse, and the coldnesse there∣of to the heat of fire. Mooving this discourse in the first booke of his Naturall questions, con∣trary to all this in his treatise of Habitudes, he saith: That these habitudes be nothing else but aires: For that bodies (quoth he) be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by them, and the cause why every body contei∣ned by any habitude is such as it is, is the continent aire; which in iron is called hardnesse, in [ 10] stone, spissitude or thicknesse; in silver whitenesse; in which words there is great contrariety, and as much false absurditie: for if this aire remaine the same still as it is in the owne nature, how commeth blacke in that which is not white, to be called whitenesse; softnesse in that which is not hard, to be named hardnesse; or rare in that which is not solide and massie, to be called solidity? But in case it be said, that by mixture therein it is altered, and so becommeth semblable, how then can it be an habitude, a faculty, power, or cause of these effects, where∣by it selfe is brought under and subdued? for that were to suffer rather than to doe; and this al∣teration is not of a nature conteining, but of a languishing impotencie, whereby it loseth all the properties and qualities of the owne: and yet in every place they hold, that matter of it selfe [ 20] idle and without motion, is subject and exposed to the receit of qualities, which qualities are spirits, and those powers of the aire, which into what parts soever of the matter they get and insinuate themselves, doe give a forme and imprint a figure into them. But how can they mainteine this, supposing as they do, the aire to be such as they say it is; for if it be an habitude and power, it will conforme and shape unto it selfe, every body, so as it will make the same both blacke and soft: but if by being mixed and contempered with them, it take formes contrary un∣to those which it hath by nature, it followeth then, that it is the matter of matter, and neither the habitude, cause, nor power thereof.

Chrysippus hath written often times, that without the world there is an infinit voidnesse; and that this infinitie hath neither beginning, middle, nor end. And this is the principall reason [ 30] whereby they resute that motion downward of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by themselves, which Epicurus hath brought in: for in that which is infinit, there are no locall differences, whereby a man may un∣derstand or specifie either high or low. But in the fourth booke of Things possible, he suppo∣seth a certeine middle space and meane place betweene: wherein he saith the world is founded. The very text where he affirmeth this runneth in these words. And therefore we must say of the world that it is corruptible: and although it be very hard to proove it, yet me thinks rather it should be so, than otherwise. Neverthelesse, this maketh much to the inducing of us to beleeve that it hath a certeine incorruptibility, if I may so say, namely the occupation or taking up of the middle place, wherein it standeth, because it is in the mids: for if it were thought otherwise to be founded, it were altogether necessarie that some corruption should take holde of it. And a∣gaine, a little after: for even so in some sort hath that essence bene ordeined from all eternity, to [ 40] occupie the middle region, being presently at the very first such as if not by another maner, yet by attaining this place, it is eternall and subject to no corruption. These words conteine one manifest repugnance and visible contrariety, considering that in them he admitteth and allow∣eth in that which is infinit a middle place. But there is a second also, which as it is more darke and obscure, so it implieth also a more monstrous absurditie than the other: for supposing that the world can not continue incorruptible, if it were seated and founded in any other place of the infinitie, than in the mids; it appeareth manifestly that he feared, if the parts of the sub∣stance did not moove and tend toward the mids, there would ensue a dissolution & corruption of the world. But this would he never have feared, if he had not thought that bodies naturally [ 50] from all sides tend to the middes not of the substance but of the place that conteineth the sub∣stance; where of he had spoken in many places, that it was a thing impossible and against nature, for that within voidnesse there is no difference, by which bodies can be said to move more one way than another: and that the construction of the world is cause of the motion to the center, as also that all things from every side do bend to the mids. But to see this more plainly, it may suffice to alledge the very text in his second booke of Motion: for when he had delivered thus much, That the world is a perfect body, and the parts of the world not perfect, because they are

respective to the whole, and not of themselves. Having also discoursed as touching the motion thereof: for that it was apt and fitted by nature to moove it selfe in all parts, for to conteine and preserve, and not to breake, dissolve and burne it selfe, he saith afterwards, But the universall world tending and mooving to the same point, and the parts thereof having the same motion from the nature of the body; like it is, that this first motion is naturally proper to all bodies, namely, to encline toward the mids of the world, considering that the world mooveth so in re∣gard of it selfe; and the parts likewise, in that they be the parts of the whole. How now my goodfriend, may some one say, what accident is befallen unto you, that you should forget to pronounce these words withall, That the world, in case it had not fortuned for to settle in the [ 10] mids, must needs have bene subject to corruption and dissolution? For if it be proper and natu∣rall to the world to tend alwaies to the same middle, as also to addresse the parts thereof from all sides thereto, into what place soever of the voidnesse it be carried and transported, certes thus 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and embracing (as it were) it selfe, as it doth, it must needs continue incorruptible, immortall, and past all danger of fracture or dissolution: for to such things as be broken, brui∣sed, dissipated and dissolved, this is incident, by the division and dissolution of their parts, when ech one runneth and retireth into their proper and naturall place, out of that which is against their owne nature. But you sir, supposing that if the world were seated in any other place of voidnesse but in the mids, there would follow a totall ruine and corruption thereof; giving out also as much, and therefore imagining a middle in that where naturally there can be none, to wit, in that which is infinit, have verily quit cleane and fled from these tensions, cohaerences and [ 20] inclinations, as having in them no assured meanes for to mainteine and holde the world toge∣ther, and attributed all the cause of the eternall maintenance and preservation thereof, unto the occupation of a place. And yet, as if you tooke pleasure to argue and convince yourselfe, you adjoine to the premisses, thus much: In what sort every severall part moveth, as it is cohaerent to the rest of the body, it stands with good reason, that after the same maner it should moove by it selfe alone; yea, if for disputation sake we imagine and suppose it to be in some void part of this world: and like as being kept in and enclosed on every side, it would move toward the mids, so it would continue in this same motion, although by way of disputation we should admit, that all on a sudden there should appeare some vacuity and void place round about it. And is it so indeed, that every part what ever it be, compassed about with voidnesse, forgoeth not her natu∣rall [ 30] inclination to move & tend to the mids; and should the world it selfe, unlesse some fortune & blind chance had not prepared for it a place in the mids, have lost that vigor & power which conteineth and holdeth all together, & so some parts of the substance of it moove one way, and some another? Now surely heerein there be many other maine contrarieties repugnant even to natural reason; but this particularly among the rest, encountreth the doctrine of God & divine providence, to wit, that in attributing unto them the least and smallest causes that be, he taketh from them the most principall and greatest of all other. For what greater power can there be, than the maintenance and preservation of this universall world, or to cause the substance u∣nited together in all parts to cohaere unto it selfe? But this according to the opinion of Chrysip∣pus, [ 40] hapneth by meere hazzard and chance: for if the occupation of a place, is the cause of worlds incorruption and eternity, and the same chanced by fortune, we must inferre there upon, that the safety of all things dependeth upon hazzard and adventure, and not upon fatall destiny and divine providence. As for his doctrine & disputation 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say of things possible, which Chrysippus hath delivered directly agaisnt that of fatall destiny, how can it chuse but be repugnant to it selfe: for if that be not possible, according to the opiniō of Diodorus, which either is or shall be true, but whatsoever is susceptible naturally of a power to be, although the same never come into act or esse, is to be counted possible; there will be a number of things pos∣sible which never shal have being, by destiny invincible, inexpugnable, & surmoūting al things. And therefore either this doctrine overthroweth al the force and puissance of destiny: or if it be admitted as Chrysippus would have it, that which potentially may be, wil fal out oftentimes to be [ 50] impossible; & whatsoever is true, shall be also necessary, as being comprised & contained by the greatest and most powerfull necessity of all others; and whatsoever is false, impossible, as having the greatest and most puissant cause withstanding and impeaching it ever for being true. For looke whose destiny it is to die in the sea, how can it possible be, that he should be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of death upon the land? And how is it possible, that he who is at Megara should come to Athens, being hindred and prohibited by fatall destiny?

Moreover his resolutions as touching fantasies and imaginations repugne mainely against

fatall destiny: For intending to proove that fantasie is not an entire and absolute cause of assent he saith, that Sages and wise men will prejudice and hurt us much, by imprinting in our mindes false imaginations, if it be so that such fantasies doe absolutely cause assent. For many times wise men use that which is false, unto leawd and wicked persons, representing unto them a fanta∣sie that is but onely probable, and yet the same is not the cause of assent: for so also should it be the cause of false opinion and of deception. If then a man would transferre this reason and argu∣ment from the said wise men unto fatall destiny, saying that destiny is not the cause of assents (for so he should confesse that by destiny were occasioned false assents, opinions and decepti∣ons, yea and men should be endamaged by destiny) certes the same doctrine and reason which exempteth a wise man from doing hurt at any time, sheweth withall that destiny is not the cause of all things. For if they neither opine nor receive detriment by destiny: certeinly they [ 10] doe no good, they are not wise, they be not firme and constant in opinion, neither receive they any good and profit by destiny: so that this conclusion which they hold for most assured, falleth to the ground and commeth to nothing, namely, that fatall destiny is the cause of all things. Now if paradventure one say unto me, that Chrysippus doth not make destiny the entire and ab∣solute cause of all things, but only a procatarcticall and antecedent occasion, here againe will he discover how he is contradictorie to himselfe, whereas he praiseth Homer excessively for saying thus of Jupiter:

Take well in worth therefore what he to each of you shall send; [ 20] And whether good or bad it be, doe not with him contend.

As also where he highly extolleth Euripides for these verses:

O Jupiter what cause have I to say, That mortall wretches we should prudent be? Depend we doe of thee, and nothing may Bring to effect, but that which pleaseth thee.

Himselfe also writeth many sentences accordant hereunto, and finally concludeth, that nothing doth rest and stay, nothing stirre and moove, be it never so little, otherwise than by the counsell and minde of Jupiter, whome he saith to be all one with fatall destiny. Moreover the antecedent [ 30] cause is more feeble and weake than that which is perfit and absolute, neither attaineth it to any effect, as being subdued & kept down, by others mightier than it selfe, rising up & making head against it. And as for fatall destiny Chrysippus himselfe pronouncing it to be a cause invincible, inflexible, and that which cannot be impeached, calleth it Atropos & Adrastia, as one would say, a cause that cannot be averted, avoided or undone. Likewise necessity and Pepromene, which is as much to say as setting downe 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say, an end and limit unto all things. How then? whether doe we not say, that neither assents, vertues, vices, nor well or ill doing, lie in our free will and power: if we affirme fatall destiny is to be maimed or unperfect and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say, a fatality determining all things, to be 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is to say, without power to finish and effect ought: and so the motions and habitudes of Jupiters will to remaine imperfect and unaccomplished? for of these conclusions the one will follow, if we say that destiny is an abso∣lute [ 40] and perfect cause: and the other, in case we hold that it is onely a procatarcticall or antece∣dent occasion. For being an absolute and all sufficient cause, it overthroweth that which is in us, to wit, our free will: and againe, if we admit it to be only antecedent it is marred for being ef∣fectuall and without the danger of impeachment. For not in one or two places onely but every where in maner throughout all his commentaries of naturall philosophy he hath written, that in particular natures and motions there be many obstacles and impediments, but in the motion of the universall world there is none at all. And how is it possible that the motion of the universall world should not be hindred and disturbed, reaching as it doth unto particulars, in case it be so, that they likewise be stopped and impeached. For surely the nature in generall of the whole [ 50] man is not at liberty and without impediment, if neither that of the foot nor of the hand, be void of obstacles: no more can the motion or course of a ship be void of let and hinderance, if there be some stay about the sailes, & oares, or their works. Over & besides all this, if the fantasies and imaginations, are not imprinted in us by fatall destiny, how be they the cause of assents? Or if because it imprinteth fantasies that lead unto assent, thereupon all assents are said to be by fatall destiny, how is it possible that destiny should not be repugnant to it selfe? considering that in matters of greatest importance, it ministreth many times different fantasies; and those which

distract the minde into contrary opinions? whereas they affirme that those who settle unto one of the said fantasies, and hold not of their assent and approbation doe erre and sinne: For if they yeeld (say they) unto uncertaine fantasies they stumble and fall: if unto false, they are deceived: if to such as commonly are not conceived and understood, they opine. For of necessity it must be one of these three: either that every fantasie is not the worke nor effect of destiny; or that every receit & assension of fantasie is not void of error; or else that destiny it selfe is not irrepre∣hensible. Neither can I see how it should be blamelesse, objecting such fansies & imaginations as it doth: which to withstand and resist, were not blameable, but rather to give place and follow them: and verily in the disputations of the Stoicks against the Academicks, the maine point a∣bout which both Chrysippus himselfe, and Antipater also contended and stood upon, was this: [ 10] That we doe nothing at all, nor be enclined to any action, without a precedent consent: but that these be but vaine fictions and devised fables, and suppositions, that when any proper fan∣tasie is presented, incontinently we are disposed, yea, and incited thereto, without yeelding or giving consent. Againe, Chrysippus saith: That both God and the wise man doe imprint false imaginations, not because they would have us to yeeld or give our consent unto them, but that we should doe the thing onely, and incite our selves to that which appeereth: As for us, if wee be evill by reason of our infirmity, we condescend to such fansies and imaginations. Now the repugnance and contrarietie in these words is easily seene; for hee who would not have us to consent unto the fantasies which he presenteth unto us, but onely to worke and doe them, be he [ 20] God or wise man, knoweth well enough that such fantasies are sufficient to cause us to fall to operation, and that those assents are altogether superfluous: and so if he knowing that the fanta∣sie imprinteth no instinct into operation without consent, ministreth unto us false or probable fantasies: wilfull and voluntary is the cause that we stumble, erre, and offend, in giving our as∣sent to such things as are not perfectly understood and comprehended.

Notes

• * 1.1

  See a little after.