Man become guilty, or, The corrruption of nature by sinne, according to St. Augustines sense written originally in French by Iohn-Francis Senault ; and put into English by ... Henry, Earle of Monmouth.

OF THE CORRUPTION OF All exteriour Goods, called by the name of FORTVNE. The Fifth Treatise: (Book 5)

The First Discourse.

That we must fear what we desire, and desire what we feare.

T'Is with much reason that originall sin is by Saint Austine tearmed the universall corruption of nature, since there is no∣thing left in man, uncorrupted; his un∣derstanding is so clouded with darknesse as he cannot discern truth from falshood, his memory is so weakened, as it is pain∣full for him to learn, and naturall to for∣get; his will is depraved as it loves no∣thing but what is pleasing to the senses. His very aids are pernitious, and the succour which nature hath af∣forded him for his help in his necessity, serves onely to make him the more miserable.

Being stript of all the good which he possest in the State of in∣nocency, it seems he needs desires, and that this passion is requisite to him, to finde out helps for his indigency; being condemned to undergo those punishments which his rebellion deserved, feare seems to be necessary to him, and that to shun the evils which threaten him; Divine mercy had ought to have made him fearfull; yet this assistance is prejudiciall to him, these remedies do augment his evill, and he would be lesse unhappy, if he could keep himselfe from wishing for good, or fearing evill. a 1.1 For to boot that desire is but a languishing of the soule which is occasioned oftner by her weaknesse, than by her want; and which reaches rather to things superfluous, than necessary; 'tis very well known, that it harms a man, whil'st it would heal him; that it widens his wounds, in stead of closing them; and that it increaseth his necessities, in lieu of comforting them: b 1.2 one desire causeth another, and man imagin∣ing that the greatest good will cost him but wishes; forgoes all o∣ther exercise to consume himselfe in unprofitable desires: he doth not relish the good which he enjoyeth, he despiseth that which he sought after, and as if things were the more precious for being ei∣ther absent, or lost, he esteems none but what he hath either lost, or hath not yet gotten: all things seem pleasing to him which he hath not, evils do to him change their nature; when they are far off, and be it either that his capacity cannot reach them, or that his desire paints them forth unto him in glorious colours, he oft-times wisheth his harm; c 1.3 and is enforced to accuse Heaven of being ri∣gorous unto him, in having too easily heard him: he expects his having obtained what he desired; & his desire is so bad a Counsellor, as all the advices which it gives him, are either unfaithfull, or rash.

It's promises are as pernicious as are it's advices, for it seldome makes good any thing that it promiseth, it glories in abusing those that believe in it; and hope which serves it for a surety, abuseth our easinesse, in engaging us to seek after a good which is difficult, and dangerous: she perswades those who listen unto her, that she is a fore-runner of felicity, that a thing desired, is halfe possessed; and to have an extream passion for riches or honour, is to quit in∣famy, and poverty. But it falls out clean contrary, for desire adds to indig••y, it irritates the evill which it would allay, and makes the ambitious, infamous, and avaritious needy. They are sensible

of their wants, d 1.4 since they desire the remedies; and the passion which presseth them is no lesse a proofe of their pain, than of their necessity. Those who suffer dishonour without desire of glory, are troubled but with one malady; but those who adde to the pain of being despised, the passion of glory, endure a double Martyrdome. Thus the desire of good, is the increase of evill, and he who makes many wishes, exposeth himselfe to most sufferings. Heaven punisheth the guilty, by giving them over to their own desires; this passion is more severe than the rack; and who could hand∣somly handle it to punish the ambitious or amorous, he might stay all other punishments. Nothing doth so much torment the dam∣ned as their desires; if they could live without wishes as well as without hope, their sufferings would be lesse severe, and hell would have lost her sorest torment.

The holy Scripture teacheth us, that God makes use of our de∣sires, as Ministers of his vengeance; and that the losse of our goods and death of friends are but the punishments of our lightest offences. When the City of Ierusalem was taken by force in the reign of Antiochus, in so much as the Temple was prophaned, the Al∣tars beaten down, that the fire consumed what the sword had spa∣red; that rivers of bloud ran in the publique places, and that wo∣men were robbed of their honour, and their husbands of their li∣berty; the writer of this story tells us, that so tragicall a disaster was but the preamble to Gods Justice; e 1.5 and (if a man may be allowed to say so) but the pastime of his anger: if he had been more incensed, he would have found out severer punishments, but because his indignation was but small, he was satisfied with the ruine of the Temple, and Ierusalems pillage: but when his just fury is at the height, and that the number of our insolent sins doth provoke his choller, he gives us over to our own desires, and com∣mand these executioners of his Justice, to make us try all the ri∣gour which love can make the unchaste suffer, or pride the ambiti∣ous; he somtimes permits these unjust desires to take effect, he grants what we desire, to make us the more unfortunate, and the more guilty; f 1.6 the good successe of our vows is a mark of his in∣dignation, and the better pleased we be with our punishments, the more firce and fatall are they. Thus riches undoe the ava∣ritious, honours punish the ambitious, and pleasures are the tor∣ments

of the unchaste. For we are in a condition wherein we ought to suspect all the goods of fortune.

Since the losse of innocency, greatnesse is fatall to man, and he cannot be raised up, without hazard of being undone: he is so prodigiously out of order, as the punishments of his sin are more advantageous to him, than the remainders of originall righteous∣nesse. And it is easier for him to save himselfe in want, and infa∣my, than in glory or abundance. Watsoever is glorious is fatall to him; g 1.7 dignities increase his haughtinesse, and makes him for∣get his misery; they raise him up onely to throw him headlong down; and 'tis a kind of miracle if hee continue humble in greatnesse. Lucifer, who had not our weaknesses, could not re∣sist this dangerous enemy; the place he held amongst the An∣gels, made him vain glorious, his glory dashed his understand∣ing, and seeing all creatures were submitted unto him, he could not endure to submit himselfe to his Creatour; his crime pro∣ceeded from his excellency, he was onely proud, because he was raised to too high a degree; and if the pain he suffers could truth from out his mouth, he would confesse he is onely miserable for having been too happy. Man lost himselfe by the same dis∣order; the terrestiall Paradise made him forget that the earth was the place of his birth, and the matter whereof his body was composed; the association of Angels, and obedience of beasts, made him believe he was independent; and held of no body. And seeing whole nature busied either for his pleasure, or for his service, he thought that if he were not a God, he might at least become one. But not to speak more of those past dis∣asters, he is overwhelmed with the weight of greatnesse; there are but few hands which can bear a Scepter without vanity, and but few heads which do not bow under the weight of a Crown. 'Tis▪ hard h 1.8 for a Prince to preserve his modesty amidst his ho∣nours, and for him to remember that he is a man, whil'st all his Subjects endeavour to perswade him that he is a God. Great humility is requisite to him, to defend himselfe from such plea∣sing slatteries, and the inclination which by reason of originall sin, he hath to vain glory being considered; he hath much a∣doe to reject such hopes as Adam was abused withall, even in the midst of his innocency.

Tis much more hard to make use of pleasure than to make use of pain, and more Philosophers are found to have been patient in af∣flictions, then moderate in pleasures, riches cause more disorder than poverty; and were not men over-rul'd by opinion, want would be more sufferable than aboundance. Though we be not stoicks, and though the fond imaginations of the haughty Philosophers did as∣wel give against reason as truth, we forbear not to confesse with them, that sorrow is to be preferred before joy, and that it is better for a man to suffer pain, then to tast pleasure. i 1.9 All his advantages are pernitious to him, the remainders of innocency ingage him in sin, and he cannot follow Adams tract, without falling into his preci∣pice: thus ought he to suspect all his desires, and all his hopes, the good whlch flatters him, deceives him; what pleaseth him, is fatall to him; and to expresse in a word, the irregularity which sin hath placed in his nature, we must affirm, that he is bound to fear what he hopes, and to hope what he fears.

For fear abuseth us aswell as hope, and she is unjust, and unfaith∣full when she paints forth evill to us like a Monster, it may suffice us to suffer it when it hath happened, without anticipating it by our ap∣prehension. That wisedome which foresees an evil, and cannot di∣vert it, serves but to hasten it; and a man had better be surprized by a disaster, then fear it long: this is not withstanding the usuall effect of fear; she fore-runs our misfortunes, under pretence of freeing us from them; she indiscreetly engageth us in them; and through a vain desire of making us more happy, she oft-times makes us more miserable; 'tis thought that she makes up a part of our wisedome, that she fore-sees not an evil save onely to prevent it; that unlesse it were for fear of poverty, we should not heap up riches, that 'tis fear of war, which makes us raise strong holds, and that if it were not for fear of famine, we should not cultirate the ground.

But certainly she is vain in her fore-light, k 1.10 and whosoever gives himself over to be guided by sotimerous a passion cannot live happi∣ly; we forestall sorrow before it's birth, we go to find it out before it seeks us, we are ingenious in multiplying our misfortunes, we fear disasters which will never happen; we become the Ministers of our own punishments, and we invent torments with the cruelty of exe∣cutioners never dream'd off: we are more befriended by fortune than by wisedome, nay even when she hath vowed our undoing, she deals

more gently with us, then fear doth. An evil finds us already sunk, when it sets upon us, our fear takes from it the half of it's victory, it wonders that she who fights against it, should fight under it's co∣lours, and that whil'st she would destroy it's power, she establisheth its Empire: for 'tis true, she paints forth evill more terrible than it is: she adds somewhat to it's il-favourednesse, she never represents it to the life, she is of the humour of those who give out no news without either disguising or augmenting them: she being by nature l 1.11 melan∣cholly, fancies ever dreadfull visions to her self, the evill which is neerest seems alwaies most dangerous to her: she attributes much to our body, and not consulting with reason, she apprehends all things that can give against the senses, she is not astonished at that sin which onely hurts the soul, but the Punishment thereof which takes down the body doth frighten her.

Yet this kind of punishment is usefull to Christians. They are sooner saved by sufferings than by pleasures, they must change their feeling as well as their condition, and remembring that they are fal∣len from the happy state of innocency, they must no longer pretend to their past felicity, neither yet complain of their present misery. Evils are no longer to be complained of, since they are become ne∣cessary; though the name of punishment which they bear with them, make them anxious to our senses, yet the name of cure should make them pleasing to the understanding: there is not any one of them whereof a man may not make a glorious vertue: if death do not make all men Martyrs, he may make holy victimes of them. Tis a fa∣vour to m 1.12 die, since God hath been pleased to become mortall; the punishments of our sins are turned into remedies, that which was infamous to us by Nature, is in Grace honourable; and we would not change condition with Angels, since not being able to die like us, they cannot sacrifice their lives to Jesus Christ; the maladies which prepare us for death, do exercise our patience. The great Apo stle grounded his glory in his weaknesses, and not considering the advantages which he had being Master of the Gentiles, he onely va∣lued his infirmities, which made the power of his deliverer appear. Poverty is no mo••e the opprobrie of men, but the glory of Christi∣ans; the Sonne of God did consecrate it both in his birth and death; it is turned into an eccellent vertue, since he hath been pleased to practice it, though A••dams poverty proceeded from his guilt, most

Christians become poor thereby to become innocent, profiting by their losse, they satisfie their Judge his Justice, and revenge them∣selves of their Enemies hatred. m 1.13 Fasting is a vertue which we have learn't at our own cost, the barrennesse of the earth hath taught us abstinency, we make a sacrifice of the Monster hunger, and in the punishment of our disobedience, we find a fence for our chastity. As evils are profitable to those that suffer them, 'tis in vain that we fear them; As Goods are fatall to those that possesse them, 'tis without reason that we wish for them. The world hath changed it's face, since man hath changed his condition; if he will not undo himself, he must fear what he hoped for, and hope for what he feared. Hee ought to be dismayed at riches, since they may corrupt him; and comforted with poverty, since it may convert him, death ought to be more precious to him than life; since it is a sacrifice; and he is bound to prefer pain before pleasure, since the crosse of Jesus Christ was the rise of his salvation.

The second Discourse.

That Honour is no longer the recompence of Vertue.

THose who will praise honour, and perswade us that she, is the reward of vertue, say with Aristotle, that generous min∣ded men prefer her before life, and those that bereave us of her are more injurious to us, and more unjust, than those who be∣reave us of our riches. Princes hazard their persons and their Estates, and leaving the spoile of their enemy to their souldiers, they reserve unto themselves onely the glory of having overcome. o 1.14 Tis the one∣ly thing which men carry with them to their graves, 'tis that which makes men live, after death, that which preserves their memory in the world, and which triumphing over years makes their worth be known to all posterity. Vertue would not have charms sufficient to make her self be beloved, were she not accompanied by glory, and this austeer Mistris would have no servants did she not promise them eternall reputation; all the famous actions of antiquity had no other

originall, and it may be said that as honour was the end of their La∣bours, so vain glory was the soul of their vertue. Ambition, which since sin is become naturall unto men, did undoubtedly perswade him p 1.15 that glory was the shadow of Divinity, and that it was she, who altering his condition, would make Temples and Altars be raised unto him after his death; He thought he might by the means of ho∣nour, obtein what he could not do by the serpents counsell, and that this fathfull companion of vertue would restore unto him, what his sin hath bereft him off.

But this argumentation is as seeble as false, for honour hath lost her purity, since man hath lost his innocency: she is dealt about more unjustly then riches, ti's a good which depends onely upon opinion, which is as soon gotten by vice as by vertue; and which subsists more by good fortune, than by justice. We have seen great Princes whose lives have been buried in oblivion, for having been The Aristides and the Phocions who are the famousest ornaments of of Greece could not vanquish oblivion; Socrates owes his reputation onely to his disciples eloquence, and had not Plato recorded his last words, we should not know how couragiously he dyed.

The q 1.16 world values much more glorious actions than vertuous ones; Poets and Historians who are the Trumpets of Monarchs, tie them∣selves more to Combats than to counsels, and do much more exalt the defeat of enemies, then the Government over subjects. Alexan∣der wonne much more reputation amongst the Grecians then did Pe∣ricles: and Caesar is much more honoured amongst the Romanes, then Cato. The Luster of great actions dazles the eyes; those which make the greatest noise, receive the greatest praises; men never consider good advice so much as good successe, nor the resolution as the e∣vent. The very Theater whereupon things are acted, serves to put a valuation upon them, that which was done in Rome made a greater noise then what at Lacedemon; and the world which suffers it self to be surprized by greatnesse, never values vertue or worth unlesse it be crowned: private souldiers do more gallant actions than their Captains, but the lownesse of their condition stifles them. Italy hath produced slaves more nobly minded than Cato, and they have uttered Maximes which Polititians would have reverenced like Ora∣cles, had they been spoken by a Prince 'Tis thought that one of the

Scipio's ows all his advantages over the r 1.17 Carthaginians, to the wise advice of Laelius, and the Criticks know very well that Cicero studi∣ed the purity of language in Terence, and the grace of expressing it up∣on Roscius his Theater, but because the one was but a franchised slave, and the other a common Player, he onely reaped the glory of their labours.

This unjust vanity is crept even into religion: we oft-times judge of Saints greatnesse, by the eminency of their births, we read the life of a Prince with more admiration then that of a Peasant, and be it either that vertue be rarer in Courts than in cottages, or that we be rather born away with appearances than truths, a common action in the person of a Prince seems noble to us. All things appear great un∣derneath a Crown: and we are so accustomed to flatter Princes, as they passe for good if they be not bad. Eloquence labours to disguise their faults, she gives honourable names to shamefull actions: and she thinks that Traffick is not base there, where she barters smoak and wind for Gold. But that which makes natures disorder evidently ap∣pear, is that fortunate faults passe for rare vertues, and that men ap∣pear onely to be famous, for that they have indeed been wicked.

If Caesar s 1.18 be more esteemed than Catiline 'tis because his design had better successe, they were both guilty of the same fault; both had vowed the ruine of their Country; the one offered at it, but in vain, the other succesfully accomplisht it: the lesse guilty went for a Traitor, and the more faulty for a legitimate King; the ones name is odious in all history, the others honourable, and most Monarchs by assuming his name shew that they approve of his Tyranny. t 1.19 He is the first Emperour of Rome, the gloriousest Scepter of the world was the reward of his trechery, his life serves for example to all Con∣querors, and his usurpation for excuse to all their unjust underta∣kings. Yet he is guilty of Catilines fault, he is not more honoured, save for that he is more unjust or more fortunate; and he is num∣bred amongst the Emperours onely, because he did execute what the other did project. If Cicero's eloquence could have stayed the progresse of his ambition, or had he died before he had made himself Master of Rome, his memory would be more odious than that of Dionysius of Syracusa, and as all Kings would have been styled Pompeys, all Tyrants would have been termed Caesars: but be∣cause his faults was fortunate, he was honoured, and the man of the

world that stood most in need of Apologies, may glory in having all history made his Panygericks. 'Tis true that Caesar would have had reason to complain had he been otherwise dealt withall; since all Nations treat their usurpers so, and reserve all their praises for those that rob them of their liberty.

Great faults are the noblest vertues; Princes who shed most bloud, receive most honour; robbery and murther are the steps whereby Tyrants get into Kings Thrones; people put not so great a valuation upon those who have defended them, as on those who have conquered them; and all things in the world are so out of order, as usurpation in Monarches is more glorious than succes∣sion. The one is the work of Nature, the other of Fortune; they owe their election to their subjects love, and are bound for their conquests to their souldiers valour. Triumph, which was vertues highest recompence amongst the Romans, was granted onely to such as had committed most murthers, and sackt most Towns; renown was not to be purchased in that Commonwealth, but by violence and injustice. That which their Historians calls victories, their enemies terme butchery; what served for a sport to the Ro∣mane Dames, made the widowes of Carthage weep; and the same successe which made them be reverenced, made them be hated by their enemies. Thus triumph, is onely founded upon faults, com∣bates are not made without weapons, nor are victories wonne with∣out murther.

This notwithstanding is the glory of Princes, and the migh∣tinesse u 1.20 of Conquerours; he who hath fought amongst Battails, is most valiant; he who hath plundered most Townes, is most happy; and he who hath ruin'd most Provinces, is the most Au∣gust: this madnesse. hath been common among Christian Princes; the lawes forbid murther to particular men, and ambition doth oft without reason permit Sovereigns to wage war; 'tis a piece of injustice, to end a difference by a duell; and 'tis an heroick. a∣ction to engage fifty thousand men in a Battail, upon a triviall occa∣sion; faults are secure because they are accompanied with an abso∣lute power; and they are publickly praised because they are out of the reach of ordinary Justice. There remains nothing to adde ido∣latry to cruelty, but to render divine honour to these illustrious guil∣ty ones, and to raise up Altars to those who have ruin'd Kingdoms.

The example of Pagans may well authorize this impiety, for they never granted Apotheosis, or Canonization, but to such as were famous for their faults. The first man whom Italy placed in heaven, did sprinkle the wals of x 1.21 Rome in it's rise with his brothers bloud: And the first Prince to whom this Republique, changed into a Kingdome, did erect Altars, had oppressed the liberty thereof: since Augustus his death, Apotheosis or Canonization, was the recom∣pence of mutther and incest, to become God he must cease to be man, and must forego all humane relations, to acquire divine ho∣nour: The Consul placed men in heaven, whom they would have driven out of the Senate had they not lived under their Tyranny, they appointed Priests to such as deserved Hangmen, and Rome was so accustomed to flatter, as she numbred those amongst her Gods, which she had numbred amongst her Tyrants.

But grant that honour were justly distributed, 'tis notwithstanding so frail a good, as men would never so passionately seek after it, had not sin corrupted his nature, and troubled his judgment. For to boot that it is not within us, y 1.22 and that it is impossible to be happy in a thing which we possesse not, it depends upon the opinion of the vulgar, who meddle as well in weighing the merit of men as the States-men doe. This bad Judge is guided more by humour then by reason; his Intetest is the rule of his Judgment, and these base per∣sons esteem nothing honourable but what is advantagious to them: they change with every wind, and as their minds are agitated with hatred, love, anger, or pitty, they praise and blame the same thing. Thus Conquerors are bound to acknowledge, that their reputation depends more upon fortune, than victory; and that to be glorious it is not sufficient for them to have overcome their enemies, unlesse by a continuance of good fortune, they win their subjects love.

I know z 1.23 'tis said that glory is never pure till after death, that Kings must lose their lives to purchase esteem, and that the Palmes and Lawrels of renowu serve onely to crown their sepulchres; but I think there are few Conquerors that would purchase glory at so deer a rate, and who would wish to die, that they might receive a recompence which is not tasted but in life: what are they the better for praises given them in Historie? what redounds to them from a vain reputation, which cannot get admittance into the other world? and how are they advantaged either in heaven or in Hell by their sepulchres adornments.

Nothing is more famous in antiquity then Caesar, he is almost as well known throughout the world as Jesus Christ. All Historians speak of him with Encomiums, all Conquerors endevour to imitate him; an action is not Glorious save when it doth conform with his: Children are rather instructed in his life, then in those of the Apostles or Martyrs, and they know better what he hath done in I∣taly, then what the Sonne of God did in Palestine; his voyages are more admired than Saint Pauls, and his Commentaries are read with more contentment, then the Epistles of the great Apostle: but what advantage reaps he by our praises in hell? do's his renown lessen his torments? is he lesse unfortunate, for being more honoured? or is he lesse tormented, for being better known? hath he any preferment in hell, where all things are in confusion and disorder: that ambiti∣ous humour, which could neither suffer a superiour, nor yet an e∣quall, is it satisfied with our Panegyricks? and a soul which suffers so much punishment, can it find any contentment in those praises? ought we not rather to conclude, that his shadow is praised, and his person tormented? that he is sensible of his a 1.24 pains but not of our praises? and that he is well esteemed on on earth, and tortered in hell?

Is not Alexander ill rewarded for all his labours? and this lover of glory, doth not he repent that he so long served this faithlesse Mi∣stris? he over-run the whole world, he was troubled that his Con∣quests should find a stop, where the Sun stayes his course; he would have gone further then that glorious constellation, and have carried his arms where the Sun did not carry his light: he hath plaid the part both of a private souldier and of a Commander upon a thousand in∣counters, and hath hazarded his Estate, his Army, and his Person, a hundred times to win a little reputation; yet what of all this remains to him in the grave? doth his glory allay his sufferings? do's the ti∣tle of great, take from him the name of unhappy? do the Ghosts of his souldiers, or of his enemies tremble at his presence, b 1.25 and he who held all the earth in awe, and silence, is he any wayes delighted with his reputation, or our astonishment? his pomp was effaced by his death he ceased to be Alexander when he ceased to be man; his body is reduced to dust, his soul burns in hell, and his name which is but a Fantasme receives the vain praises, which are given it.

Let us conclude then that a man must be a fool to imagine that honour is the recompence of vertue, and that man never sought af∣ter these imaginary contentments, till after he had lost those which were solid and reall. Mans honour consists in his duty; of all the testimonies which he receives there are none but those of his consci∣ence, which can satisfie him: knowing that vertue depends upon Grace, he gives the glory to him who hath indued him with the strength, & he confesseth that God c 1.26 crowns his own gifts, when he crowns our merits. Vainglory was permitted to the Pagans who defied honour, but she is forbidden Christians, who hold ambition a crime: she was permitted unto Pagans, whose immortality consisted in re∣nown, but she is forbidden Christians whose felicity consists in be∣holding God. In fine, earth is the place of desert, and heaven the a∣bode of recompence. God hath reserved unto himself the care of dispensing glory to those that serve him, 'tis d 1.27 he who will make the Saints Panygericks and who will crown their vertues: let us not intrench upon his rights, let us give all glory to him, since he is the fountain thereof, and let us confesse that man would never have been ambitious, if he had always continued innocent.

The third Discourse.

That greatnesse is attended by flavery and vanity.

THough sin hath corrupted mans nature, though it have be∣reft him of those glorious advantages which made him walk hand in hand with Angels, and hath reduced him to a con∣dition wherein he is equally grieved with shame, and misery, yet hath it not been able to blot out of his soul the memory of his great∣nesse. For though the world be a place of banishment, though all Creatures war against him, and that the seasons are become irregu∣lar onely to make him suffer, he notwithstanding seeks for Paradice upon the earth, and amidst all his mischiefs, he continues a desire of happinesse. Though ignorance be the punishment of his sin, though his blindnesse continue all his life time, and that the darknesse which clouds his understanding, suffers him not to discern between vice,

& vertues; yet he thirsts after truth, he seeks her amidst falshood, and oft-times fights to find her out; though since the losse of his inno∣cency he be become slave to his passions, and that to obey such in∣solent Masters, he be enforced to forego his liberty, he ceaseth not to love command, and to pretend to the Empire of the whole world; he endevours to recover by injustice, d 1.28 what he hath lost by Vani∣ty; and not able to come by royalty, he with open face aspires to Tyranny. The Devil who cannot efface his desires which are as the remainder of innocency, is content to corrupt them, and to propose unto him false objects to divert him from true ones. To say truth, man takes no longer pleasure in any thing save in criminall delights, the inclination which he hath for the Summum Bonum, serves onely to keep the further from it; and for not taking his aim aright, he strays from his end whilest he thinks to draw neer it: the love which he bears to knowledge is but a meer curiosity, he loves truth like a whore, not like a legitimate wife, he seeks her out onely to passe away his time, as oft as she blames his disorders, he turns his love into ha∣tred, and becomes her persecutor whose servant he was.

His passion for Sovereignty, is not more lawfull, though he de∣sire a Good which he hath possessed, 'tis upon such conditions, as make his desire unjust. He wisheth for an independant Crown, whith may hold of no body, he will be absolute in his estate, and since he is become the Devils slave, he will be no longer Gods sub∣ject: his ambition will not suffer him to acknowledge his legitimate Sovereign, and his basenesse forceth him to tolerate a Tyrant; he would think he should injure his liberty, should he assubject it to the will e 1.29 of his Creator, and thinks not that he wrongs his nobility, when he submits himself to an usurper: he feeds himself with vain authority, and false greatnesse; he thinks himself not forced, because he follows his own inclinations, and because his Master keeps him tied up with Chains of Gold, he cannot think he is a slave. This er∣rour slides the easilyer into the souls of Kings, for that seeing so ma∣ny subjects obey them, they cannot perswade themselves that ser∣vitude can meet with so many marks of liberty. These crowned heads can hardly believe that their will, which is the living law of their Empire is made a Captive; that they who are their subjects destiny, should hold of an invisible Tyrant: and that they who passe for the Gods of the world, should be the f 1.30 Devils slaves: the sub∣mission

which they finde in their Dominions, makes them believe they are absolute: the blinde respect which is rendred to their de∣gree, makes them forget the miseries of their birth: flattery insi∣nuates her selfe easily into them, unlesse they be armed with reason, to withstand her, and these pleasing falshoods banish away truth. In so high a pitch of fortune, where nothing is wanting to compleat the felicity of their senses; their soule is weakned, and being char∣med by false praises, they believe what they desire. They imagine that death dares not assaile a Monarch which the world stands in awe of, and whom fortune reverenceth: They make a God-head of their greatnesse; they despise such honours as are not divine; and though sicknesses which advertise them of their weaknesse, assure them of their deaths; they hope for an un-exampled miracle, and perswade themselves that immortality is a favour wherewith heaven will honour their merit: The guards which watch about their Palaces, might easily cure them of this errour; did not flat∣tery which makes them as stupid, as insolent, bereave them both of their judgement, and modesty: the conspiracies which are made a∣gainst their persons, the parties which are packt in their Territories, the cunning which is used to corrupt their subjects loyalty, are rea∣sons good enough to abate their pride; and to destroy that foolish confidence which feeds their vanity. g 1.31 But without going so far for remedies for their evils, their onely greatnesse is able to cure them; when if they would consider the condition whereinto sin hath reduced Monarchs, they would confesse that the power which waites upon them is but weak, and dangerous, full of anxiety, and mixt with servitude.

Though God will suffer us to share with him in his perfections, though he permit that our vertues be a shadow of his divine attri∣butes, that our condition be such as we may imitate them; and though a man be not rationall unlesse he endeavour to expresse in his soule an image of divinity, yet amongst that number of perfecti∣ons which we adore in God, some seem to be advantagious to us, other some prejudiciall. It is lawfull for all men to aspire to ho∣linesse, and let us give what ever reins we please to this passion, it can never be criminall. Every one may safely imitate mercy, when, according to Gods example our benefits extend unto the good, and to the evill; to Turks, and Christians; and when without making

any distinction of persons, we do equally oblige the innocent, and the faulty; a vertue is not to be blamed which hath God for it's example; in the religion which we professe a man cannot have too much charity, h 1.32 the perfection whereof consists in excesse, and he who is most charitable, is undoubtedly the most perfect Christian.

But there are some other attributes in God which one nor can, nor ought to imitate, save with an humble reservednesse; it is dan∣gerous to wish for knowledge; and as our first father lost himselfe onely out of a desire of being too knowing, the desire thereof is oft-times sinfull, and the seeking after it always dangerous. Beauty is one of the excellentest perfections which religion acknowledg∣eth in God, 'tis the chiefe object of our beatitude; and were not God as beautifull as he is good, he would not be the desire, and the happinesse of all rationall creatures: i 1.33 yet we cannot seek after the possession of this advantage without danger; in women pride accompanies beauty; chastity and she, are not upon good tearms, and 'tis a kinde of prodigy, when a woman is as chaste, as fair. Greatnesse and power are two of Gods Attributes, which merit e∣quall honour, each of them inspires fear into the soule of the crea∣ture; if they be ravisht with his goodnesse, his Majesty astonisheth them; and if his beauty oblige them to love him, his power en∣forceth them to reverence him. Thus dividing themselves between respect and love, they love him as their Father, and adore him as their Sovereign: k 1.34 yet this perfection which preserves the honour of God amongst men, cannot without danger be wished for; who prescribes not bounds to the desire thereof falls easily into errour; and he who pretends to his greatnesse who hath no equall, cannot avoid his just anger. Lucifers undoing was for that he would reign in heaven; if pride was his sin, greatnesse was the object thereof; and if that glorious Angell be now a devill, 'tis because his ambi∣tion made him wish himselfe a God. The cause of his disaster, is oft-times the cause of ours, that which drove him from heaven, banisht Adam out of Paradise; this children of the unfortunate fa∣ther, mistaking his fault, bear his punishment; and finde by expe∣rience, that of all worldly conditions, the most glorious is most dangerous, and the most absolute, is most faulty. It is more safe to obey, than to command; and let Kings be never so godly in their Thrones, they run more hazard in their welfare then their subjects

do; the higher they be raised up by greatnesse, the more are they threatened by vanity; that which draws them neerer God, keeps them the farther from him; and the same Majesty which makes them his images, makes them oft-times his enemies.

This condition placeth Kings upon the brink of a precipice, l 1.35 the higher it is, the more dangerous is it, and like the highest moun∣tains is always exposed to storms: so great is the danger which doth accompany it, as it may be doubted, whether a Scepter be not aswell the punishment of Gods justice, as the favour of his mercy. The first King of Israel was a reprobate, his election which was somewhat miraculous freed him not from sin, neither could the prayers of a Prophet appease Gods anger: his fault at first was but impatience, and in the progresse thereof, but a slight enterprize upon the priestly office. The presence of his enemies whereby he was obliged to fight, might serve him for an excuse, and the laws of war, which will have a man make use of advantages, was a reason of state, which might have sheltred him in the opinion of Polititians. Yet this fault which had so fair an appearance, was punished by the routing of his army, he found death, when he sought for glory; and the same mountain which was the pitcht field wherein he set upon his ene∣mies, was the scaffold whereon he was punished by Divine Ju∣stice.

Poets who never read our scripture, judged aright, that Crowns were not always set upon the most innocent heads, and that king∣doms were oftner the punishment of sin than the reward of vertue. Iocasta made use of this reason to divert Polinices from the war which he undertook against Eteocles, she assured him, that without troubling himself with fighting, he should be sufficiently revenged of a reigning brother, m 1.36 for that a kingdome was a severe punish∣ment, and that of all his ancestors there was not any Sovereign who had not been unfortunate,

Though this Maxime be not always true in Christianity, and that there have been Kings, whose Thrones have served them for steps to mount up to heaven by, 'tis alwaies very dangerous to be raised to a condition which permits them to doe what they please, and with not bereaving them of their passions unrulinesse, affords them means of satisfying them: For in this supream authority, which hath no arbitrator, nor censurer, they can do what they will, their

power meets with no resistance, all their councellors are their slaves, and either flatttery or fear makes all men praise their injustice, n 1.37 or bear with their violence: if they be unchast, 'tis not safe to be chast in their dominions. All women are not couragious enough to expose their lives to save their honour: those who have worth enough to re∣sist the vain discourses of men, have not strength sufficient to with∣stand a Princes promises, and there are but very few who will not ha∣zard their chastity to triumph over the liberty of a Monarch. If they be greedy they will find a thousand pretences to enrich themselves at their subjects costs, and to fill their cofers with the spoyles of Orphans and Widows. If they be cruell they will find fitting Mi∣nisters for their fury: glorious names are given unto their faults, all their revenges passe for acts of justice; they are termed the Fathers of the people, when they wash their hands in their subjects bloud; their anger is animated by servile praise, and their cruelty incou∣raged by approbation: so as Kings have no greater enemies to their welfare then this uncurbed licentiousnesse which accompanieth their greatnesse, and that absolute power which furnisheth them with means to execute all their designs.

But say they were lesse irregular and grant that reason assisted by Grace should keep them from abusing their Sovereign Authority, they would not be exempt from fears, and dangers. o 1.38 For as they are the heads of their People, they are answerable for their faults, they commit all the evil w^ch they do not hinder, & those publike disorders wherewith all the world is scandalized, are the particular sins of So∣vereigns. When they examine their conscience, they are bound to re∣new their state, to consider whether justice be exercised in all their hightribunals, whether the governors of Provinces do not abuse their power, whether the nobility in the Countrey do not trample upon the poor sort of countrey people, and whether the Judges suffer them∣selves not to be terrified by threats, or corrupted by promises; they ought to accuse themselves of all such faults as grow insolent tho∣row impunity, and make their kingdomes disorders the chief article of their confession. How great is this obligation, how dangerous is this condition, and what hazard is there in making good a dignity, wherein Innocency becomes guilty, where though exempt from sin, one is not exempt from fear, and where to acquit himself of his du∣ty, a man must to the quality of an honest upright man adde the

quality of a good Sovereign. In the state of innocency, the world had had no kings, or kings would have had no trouble, for passion not having yet rebel'd against reason, every one might have gover∣ned himself without any danger, and all men might have obeyed without repugnancy: the will of the subject would always have been conformable to that of their King, and Kings would have exacted nothing from their subjects, which should not have been both profi∣table and pleasing to them: in this happy season crowns would not have been environed with thorns, and the curse thundred out against the earth, would not have fallen upon the heads of Kings, p 1.39 there would have been no difficulty in the art of reigning, and the state be∣ing an image of man; the one and the other would have found rest in his innocency. But now that men are become unruly, the art of governing them is become equally difficult, and dangerous; the sub∣jects faults becomes the Kings, and the Kings fault becomes the subjects punishment: thus the one and the other of them are mutually miserable, and the most powerfull is allways the most faulty.

If royalty meet with danger, labour is inseparable from it, and glory is therein so mingled with pain, as government ceaseth to be glorious, when it is easie. Kings command over free men who do not engage themselves in submission, save onely that they hope there to find happinesse: this is a thing which heightens the greatnesse of Monarchs, but it adds unto their cares, and unlesse they will lose the title of kings, and purchase the name of Tyrants, they must govern themselves so wisely, as preserving their authority, they do not in∣jure their subjects liberty. q 1.40 This is a temper so hard to be met with∣all, as most Princes are either too indulgent or too severe, some treat their subjects like savage beasts, and seem rather to govern Lyons, than men; others deal with them as with Children, and rather dis∣charge the duty of a Pedagogue then of a king, others treat them like slaves, changing their kingdome into a gally, and foregoing the quality of a king to assume that of a Captain of a Gally. Others treat them like rebels, and confounding Monarchy with Tyranny, have no other law than their will, nor other means to make them be obeyed then torments, and punishments, but Legitimate kings deal with them as with free people, interessing themselves in their Good, and studying to win their hearts without intrenching upon their liberties.

This is for certain the most innocent and most honourable way of treating, r 1.41 but it is also the hardest for to arrive at this, Kings must watch whil'st we sleep; they must foresee the evils which threaten us, repulse those wherewith we are assailed, and consul∣ting with history, must learn by what is past how to prevent mis∣chiefs to come; if any thing of disaster befall, their govern∣ment is blamed; if the successe of war be bad, their courage is ac∣cused; and as if nature depended on their will, famine and pesti∣lence are imputed to their ill government. The Indians admit of no King, who doth not oblige himselfe by oath, to overcome all the enemies of the State, to govern all seasons, and to warrant the subject against the injuries of the weather. Though there be as much injustice in exacting this promise, as insolency in making it, yet doth it proceed from a generall beliefe which all men have, that Princes ought to labour for the welfare of the Common-weale, to secure the quiet of their dominions, and to endeavour their subjects happinesse; what is there more painfull, or more troublesome, then to appease the anger of heaven, to conjure down tempests, to fight, and be victorious, and to order things so right, as that a man do not ruine his subjects, by overcoming his enemies?

But I marvaile not that greatnesse be laborious, since 'tis ser∣vile; s 1.42 and that Kings enjoy lesse liberty than their subjects. For since sin hath enslaved man, there is no free condition to be found on earth; servitude succeeded innocency; and to be sure to com∣mand, a man must necessarily obey: great fortunes are famous cap∣tivities, though their splendour dazle us, their miseries are easily ob∣served, and though their chains seem more glorious, as being made of diamonds, yet are they as hard, and as heavy as others. Princes dare not travell, they are confin'd within their Kingdoms as in a prison, their visits would cause jealousies in their Allies, should they be ac∣companied with great preparations, and they would injure their own greatnesse, should they be done without ceremony. They must keep within their own Towns, must not visit their Frontires, except in Arms; nor see forreign Countries, unlesse in Maps; t 1.43 and if they go out of their Countrey, they must be resolved to fight: All their Marches give Alarmes to their neighbours, when they think upon a journey, every one prepares for war, and 'tis imagin∣ed they would enlarge their prison, when they enter into anothers

Territories: These famous Captives are so jealous of their Gives, as a man cannot break them without becoming their enemy, and they are so in love with them, as they esteem an endeavouring to set them at liberty, is to entrench upon their power: their great∣nesse, wherein the best part of their servitude consists, obligeth them to have always Guards about their persons; they can do no∣thing but they must have a thousand witnesses, all their secrets are publique, they are besieged in their Closets; croud, and noise, trouble the content of their solitarinesse; those who keep off the croud, presse upon them; and those who defend them, do besiege them; Those Sentinels who watch at the avenues to their Palla∣ces, are as well a marke of their captivity, as of their greatnesse; and he who were not acquainted with the Court, would doubt whe∣ther he that is with so much care guarded, were a prisoner, or a King.

Amongst so many slaves, they have never a bosome friend: their greatnesse which cannot suffer an equall, u 1.44 cannot admit of a friend: they taste not those honest contentments which accompa∣ny friendship; all that come near them are either slaves or flatterers, who tell them nothing but pleasing falshoods: Truth is banished from out their Palaces; if they raise up any one, they are always jealous of him; they envy their own workmanship, they un-make what they had made, either to witnesse their power, or to content their jealousies; x 1.45 and knowing that all things are common amongst friends, they will not relish a happinesse, which obligeth them to divide their power of State. Marriage which is the straightest tie of all friendship, doth not abate the irksomnesse of their solitari∣nesse, for they take their wives, but choose them not; they marry for interest, not for inclination; they have least of freedom, where∣in they ought to have most, and have more respect to the welfare of their Territories, then to their own contentment; the welfare of their subjects is the end of all their labours, and nature hath hidden reall servitude, under an appearing greatnesse; They com∣mand over men, for mens advantage; they are rather Arbitra∣tours, than Sovereign Lords; rather Fathers, than Masters; and rather Tutours, than Sovereigns; they are Pilots which ought to avoid storms, Chieftains which ought to fight, Suns which ought to dissipate darknesse, and dispence abroad heat and light: they are Fathers which ought to govern their Kingdoms as their Fami∣lies,

and their subjects as their children: whatsoever exceeds this power, leans towards injustice, and all Princes who mind more their own renown then their peoples good, deserve rather y 1.46 the name of Conquerors then Sovereigns: good Kings serve those over whom they command, they do not mount their thrones so much to cause fear, as to purchase love; and if they will perform their duties they must not reign over their subjects out of an ambitious desire of com∣manding over them, but out of a charitable desire of being advanta∣gious to them.

If they have any other motive for what they do, they fall into a∣nother sort of servitude, and becomming Tyrants to their people, they become slaves to their passions, for as just men are free amidst fetters, wicked men are slaves though on throns, and these who are so famously faulty have as many Masters which command them, as they possesse passions. Thus greatnesse be it lawfull, or unlawfull, is always waited on by servitude, and the greatest Monarchies of the world cannot shun the losse of their liberty, whether the end of their labours be the good of their Territories, or their own renown. It is true that their conditions are as different, as their designs, for some find their own welfare to consist in that of their subjects, and others find their losse in that of their state, the one acquires honour by dispising it, others lose it, by seeking after it, the one establisheth his authority by foregoing it, and the other destroy it whilst they would establish it, but they all learn by experience, that since the sin of A∣dam there is no liberty without servitude, nor Greatnesse without dependency.

The fourth Discourse.

That the birth and cruelty of War derives from sin.

WAr is of as long a standing in the world as sin, this daugh∣ter was born together with her Father, and contrary to the laws of Nature she punisheth him that begot z 1.47 her; for as soon as man was fallen from innocency, and that originall righ∣teousnesse,

which composed the differences of the soul and body, had forsaken him; these two parties declare war against one another, the slave rebel'd against his Sovereign, and became a rebell himself, to punish his Sovereigns rebellion, hee undertook to reduce reason under his laws, and to submit the inclinations of the understanding to the motions of Concupiscence. This intestine war caused forreign discords; when man became once divided in his person, divisions a∣rose in his state, and at the same time that his soul and body gave o∣ver their good intelligence, all his a 1.48 subjects revolted, every element set upon him to revenge it self, and the conspiracy was so generall, as this unfortunate Sovereign saw not any one part of his state wherein he had not enemies to fight withall, and rebels to sub∣due.

Before that Heaven afforded him some means to reduce them to their duties, he suffered unexpressible misery, and to draw an Idea of his disaster, we must set forth a man exposed to the rigour of the air, without cloaths; one persecuted by the elements, who had no house, one starved with hunger, who could not cultivate the earth; one fought withall by his passions, who had no vertues to discover them, one composed of disagreeing parts, who had no power to re∣reconcile them: such a one was Adam, when he was driven out of the earthly Paradise; all his subjects became his enemies, every ele∣ment to offend him, grew unruly, the seasons mingled themselves disorderly to punish him; and beasts which were not as then wild, changed their Nature to persecute him.

This unfortunate Sovereign was fain to arm himself in his own defence; b 1.49 necessity taught him to cut out cloaths to save himself from the cold, to build Cabins wherein he might keep dry not∣withstanding the injuriousnesse of the weather, to plough the earth, to overcome her sterility, to make arrows, or spread nets to take birds, and tame savage beasts: he taught the horse to manage, and forced the noblest of creatures to endure the bit and spur; he brought oxen under the yoake, forced buls to change their fury into friend∣ship, and to forego the forrest to live in pastures; he wisely mixed art with force, and that he might lessen the number of his enemies, he endevoured to divide them; he made use of those that he had re∣claimed, against those which did resist him; and by an admirable address he chased stags with horses, pursued wolves with dogs, and

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flew at partridges with Faulcons, and Goss haulks. Thus did this Sovereign beat back force by violence, and reduced his subjects to their duty, by the aid of necessity.

This war was just, because necessary; selfe preservation was his excuse, c 1.50 and if the beasts were not too blame in setting upon a man, who had revolted against God, man was not unjust in defending himself against those subjects which would have oppressed him: Na∣ture taught him that he might commit murther, without committing sin: and that in the state of sin he might slay the innocent to feed himself. This permission did notwithstanding inspire cruelty insensi∣bly into him; by killing beasts, he learnt to kill men; these his first Trials made him Master of his art, so as passing through all the degrees of injustice, after having committed murther, he commit∣ted parricide. For when he saw that the death of one man had drawn upon him the hatred of all those that belonged unto him, he sought for some to side with him, he engaged all his friends in his quarrell: then did men forge weapons to undo themselves; they who had only pursued their subjects, pursued those that were like themselves; And arrows which were only dipt in the bloud of beasts, were stained with mans bloud; the Chieftaines of parties, chose out pitcht fields to end their differences, they encouraged their souldiers to the combate, d 1.51 they made them hope for the spoil of the enemy, and perswaded them that revenge and murther were glorious actions.

This cruell opinion spread it selfe over the whole world, the trade of war grew honourable, and the name of murtherer was changed into that of souldier; ambition increasing with time, eve∣ry one thought that greatnesse consisted in injustice, that he who had committed most murthers, was most couragious; and that he who had overcome most Nations, plundered most Towns, and o∣ver-run most Provinces, was the most famous Conquerour. When once this errour grew to be a maxime, e 1.52 all disorderly unquiet spi∣rits entrencht upon their neighbours; every Prince would enlarge his bounds; men began to place right in might, to confound usur∣pation with possession, and to think that every thing belonged to him that could make himselfe Master thereof. War was made upon forreign Nations; no other pretext but ambition was sought for, and all such as would not be subjects to a Prince, became his enemies.

Though we have as many proofes of the corruption of our na∣ture, as we have inclinations in our soule, yet we must confesse there is none more strong then that which an extream desire to wage war, doth furnish us withall: for fury hath perswaded us, that it was the most glorious employment that might be, we hear Conquerors spoken of with respect, we read their fights w^th admiration, we tearm their Injustice Heroick actions, Eloquence cannot find out expressi∣ons noble enough to honour their Ambition. Historians think them∣selves happy when they write a Prince his life who hath drowned the fields with humane bloud, and who like thunder hath born down what ever withstood his violence. We give the title of grand to those who have unpeopled the world, we propound unto our Kings the example of such who have ruined their subjects to over∣come their neighbours; we foment their ambition, by the praise we give usurpers: we insensibly perswade them, that Justice is but the vertue of private men: and that Sovereigns who have no law but their will, ought to seek for no other right, or title than Vio∣lence.

There is nothing more horrible then war, sin is the cause thereof, and this wicked Father produceth nothing which more resembles him than this Monster. Injustice and ambition are the officers which do guide it, Fury and Cruelty the Serjeants which do accompany it, and it's exployts are plunder, murther, violence, and burning; it car∣ries terrour and dread into all parts where it comes, changeth fields into desarts, towns into solitary places, and Kingdomes into Tyran∣nies, it mingles childrens tears with their Fathers bloud, bereaves women of their honour, and their husbands of their Liberties, rai∣seth it's Trophies upon the ruine of Cities, or upon mounteins of dead men, it grounds it's Triumphs upon the undoing of kingdoms, and draws it's praises from the cries and complaints of Captives. Yet f 1.53 sin obligeth us to value it, and though we do experiment the rigour thereof, we cannot chuse but approve of it's disorders. We number the victories which we have wonne over our enemies, we look upon the number of the dead, and prisoners with delight, the pillaging of towns and taking of places satisfies our vanity, and as if passion had made us lose all humane resentments, we never think that our victory is our brethrens undoing, that our rejoycing draws tears from the eyes of Orphans and widows, whose Fathers and hus∣bands

we have slain: that hell is filled with souldiers, whilest the world is unpeopled of Christians, and that these advantages which make us insolent, cost innocents their lives, make free men prisoners, and wealthie men miserable.

Those who see the disasters caused by war, imagine the cause there∣of ought to be very considerable, and that Princes break not with their neighbours or allies uninforced by powerfull reasons; yet are the motives thereof, oft times ridiculous; what causeth a suite at law between two private men, begets a quarrell between two Prin∣ces, what puts a division between two families, puts a difference be∣tween two states, and that which is the undoing of two parties who go to law together, doth oft-times ruine two Nations, which wage war together, an apple was the chief cause of the burning of Troy; the ravishing of Helen was but the occasion; Poets who hide Truths underfables, would have the famousest siege in all the world should be undertaken to revenge the Jealousie of two women; and that the greatest Empire of Asia, g 1.54 should be ruined to punish a shep∣heards judgment.

Ambition which delights in greatnesse, hath no juster nor no more worthy motions; Greece complained no longer of Persia when Alex∣ander set upon her; nothing can make this Conqueror carry fire and and sword into his neighbours country, save a vain desire to reign; and who should have asked him the motive of so unjust and rash a design, must have found it to have been his vain glory. The Com∣monwealth of Rome was at the height of her prosperity, when Cas•• resolved to change her into a Monarchy, Pompeys greatnesse served him onely for a pretence to execute his enterprize, for though his sonne in laws exploits had caused no Jealousies in him, and that he had not been incouraged to that design, by the examples of Marius and Scilla, his ambition was of it self sufficient to cause this desire in him: his insolent mind could endure no equals, his citizens if they will be his friends must be his slaves, all whatsoever greatnesse must bow to him, lest they cause his indignation; and the people must receive a shamefull peace, if they will not suffer a direfull war. I am further of opinion, h 1.55 that this Monster nurst up in butchery and bloud, would have made enemies, if he had found none; that after having vext the Romanes, he would have persecuted the Parthians, and that passing from one Country to another, he would have dis∣peopled

all Kingdoms, & ruined all Kings. The wars of our Ance∣stours have had no juster pretences; those which our Histories ring most of, have had but weak motives; the jealousie of two Fami∣lies have oft-times endangered the Kingdom; two Favourites have oft-times used their Masters Militia, to end their own differences; hundred thousand men have interessed themselves in the fight, not knowing the occasion thereof.

But certainly it must be confest if wars have small causes, they produce strange effects; i 1.56 and that those which we tearm civill, ex∣ceed all others in cruelty: for men make profession to violate all the laws of nature, and as if every souldier were of his Generals humour, he believes that his nearest kindred are his greatest ene∣mies; he dips his hands in his own bloud to assure his Captain of his fidelity; his ambition makes him lose all sense of humanity; he would think he should betray his duty, if he spared his friends; and esteem himselfe not worthy the name of a souldier, if he could forget the names of father, and mother. He who sacrificed him∣selfe upon his brothers body whom he had heedlesly killed in the heat of the battell, was yet but an Apprentice in war; and more expe∣rienced than he, would have presented his brothers head unto the Ge∣nerall, to have had some recompence for it. Civill Wars stifle all the relations of nature; those who fight in the same Kingdom under differing Ensignes, have nothing of man but the face; they cease to love or know one another, after once they begin to fall a siding; and when the heart of their Countrey is the Theater of their Bat∣tels, their cruelty cannot be mitigated by any Alliance.

History, or else Fiction, tells us of two brothers whom their mo∣thers tears was never able to reconcile: they fought hand to hand in the head of their Armies, to spare their souldiers bloud; they through their own wounds, poured forth their Fathers bloud: death, which they both received at the same moment, could not appease their quarrell; hatred appeared in their countenances, when it had forsaken their heart; k 1.57 their souls descended into hell, to end their combate there; and fury passing from their bodies to their fu∣nerall Pile, divided the flames which consumed them. This fiction of the Poets, is a truth amongst Christians; amongst whom there are brothers found whose hatred is immortall, who preserve their animosity after the losse of their lives; who leave it for an inheri∣tance

to their successours; who charge their children to revenge their injuries; and who shewing a face of war in time of peace, do meditate murther when they cannot commit it. I wonder not that the same thoughts which did possesse them in their life, possesse them likewise in their death; and that those who delighted in no∣thing but bloud, did dream on nought but cruelties; since an ill ha∣bit is an invisible chain which keeps the will captive, and will not suffer it to abhor a crime, which hath alway been pleasing to it. But I cannot well comprehend how sin should so far corrupt man, as to perswade him that murther was honourable, that there was glory in committing it, pleasure in beholding it, and that the cruel∣lest action that may be, could purchase glory, or cause content.

All Paganisme took pleasure to see the Gladiators fight; the effusion of mans bloud was one of their most pleasing spectacles; and l 1.58 Rome had much a do to forgo this cruell pastime, after she had embraced the Christian Religion: people ran to publick places, to see men fight; they were taught to kill one another handsomly, and with a good grace; publick schools were erected to teach this bloudy exercise; there were Masters who taught how to observe method in murthering, who led their disciples into their Arenae, or Theators for fencing; and who trying their dexterity themselves incouraged them to fight by example; he was most praised, who shed most bloud, and a man sorely wounded who had killed many men was led about in triumph. Sin must needs reign in their hearts, since it had driven thence all sense of humanity; and that making man-slaughter a vertue, it had perswaded them that glory consist∣ed in injustice, and pleasure in cruelty: this madnesse, grew in time to so great a height, as to make killing more easie, and the sport more pleasing; men were to fight stark naked with offensive wea∣pons, but none defensive. Obscenity was joyned to cruelty, to the end that one might content two passions with one and the same spectacle, and that the sight of a dying wretch might make them love his murtherer; yet these combates are but the shadows of war; the Gladiators fury is but the souldiers entrance; Companies were fill'd up which these people nurst up in bloud; and when re∣cruits were to be had, those were sought for in the Arenae, who had made themselves famous by the death of their Companions. And certainly duels which serve for pastime to our nobility, are neither

more just, nor yet lesse cruell; so brutish a passion cannot be but in mindes where sin doth Tyrannize: a man must renounce both reason and Grace, to obey so blind a fury; and one must cease to be either rationall or faithfull, if he believe that a Gentlemans Glory consists in Murther; yet this errour is become a custome, Gentlemen love ra∣ther to lose their heads upon a scaffold, and dye by the hands of a hangman, then to be failing in an occasion where they know their conscience is in an ill condition, and that they are in danger of lo∣sing both soul and body; fear of shame hath more power over them then fear of Hell; they chuse rather to incurre Gods anger, and their Princes, then the peoples reproach, and by a foolish extravagancy, they hazard their soul to preserve their honour.

As this blind Passion differs not much from that which animates Conquerors to war, so doth she likewise proceed from the same principle; the one and the other proceed from sin, which having put us at ods with our selves, puts us likewise at ods with our neigh∣bours; and perswades us that all means are lawfull whereby we may acquire honour. Upon this false belief, we engage our selves in com∣bats, we violate the holy laws of nature, we fly upon our neighbours and allyes, and not considering; m 1.59 that the world is a Common-wealth; that all kingdomes are the provinces, all people the subjects thereof, that charity is the law thereof, the Holy Ghost the heart, and Jesus Christ the head, we use such cruelties one towards ano∣ther, as do well witnesse that sin hath corrupted our nature, and that the Devil doth possesse our will. He who doth not acknowledge the truth, and doth not confesse that this irregularity is the punishment of our sin, is yet more miserable then they who indure it, and com∣plain thereof: for the other grounds his glory upon his injustice one∣ly because he hath lost the use of reason, and thinks himself onely happy because he is become stupid. War is then one of the most fa∣tall effects of sin, and one of the severest chastizements of divine Ju∣stice; it is onely excusable n 1.60 when necessary, and yet it were better sometimes to follow the counsell of the Gospell, and to lose some∣what of that, which by right apperteins unto us, then to defend it by so cruell a way: for if he whose every word is an oracle, recom∣mends peace to us dying, how can we resolve to wage war? if he command us to forget injuries, how can we commit outrages and homicide? Let o 1.61 us then conclude that man is sufficiently sinfull,

since war is his exercise, since his glory consists in cruelty, since com∣bats are his noblest imployments, since he delights in Murther, since he esteems a pitcht battle more innocent then a single Duell, onely because it is more bloudy; since he thinks man-slaughter a sin, when it is particular, and a vertue when generall; and when by an inju∣stice which cannot be sufficiently blamed, the sinner finds his impu∣nity onely in the excesse of his sin.

The fifth Discourse.

That Riches render men poor and sinfull.

THough it be hard to say, which is the severest punishment man hath suffered since his losse of innocency, and that ser∣vitude, and death are pains equally insupportable to those who love their liberty as their life, yet me thinks there is a third more rigorous, which all men do resent, yet not any one complains off. And this is nothing else but the calling to mind the possession of all those good things which we have lost together with our innocen∣cy: a desire of them remains in us, which vertues self cannot efface, we sigh when we want them, and we never are so sensible of our misery, as when we are assailed by pain, infamy or poverty. p 1.62 Yet are their remedies new diseases, and we never do so well know our own weaknesse, as when we abound in pleasures, honours, and rich∣es.

This is so true a Maxime as that all Christian Religion makes profession, of either really foregoing all those advantages which men enjoyed during the state of innocency, or else of desiring to do so. She rejects honour, and seeks out shame, she shuns delight, and nourisheth her self in sorrow, she forsakes riches, and embraceth po∣verty. Being instructed in the school of Mount Calvary, she turns the punishments of her sin into remedies, she makes vertues of her chastizements and shuns those advantages which man possessed in paradise, least following Adams example, she might fall upon his disaster. To say truth, all our pleasures are irregular, we cannot la∣bour after honour, without hazarding our humility, and we can∣not

possesse riches without becomming insolent, the malady rests not onely in our desires; it is past into these objects, which give it birth, and there is a certain malignity found in the use of Riches which makes us lose our innocency: q 1.63 they are specious tor∣ments, and pleasing punishments, which promise us to allay an evill, which they do irritate. Poverty stands in need of something, but avarice, r 1.64 which is almost inseparable from Riches, needs all things, she wonders that the enemy which she shuns, never fore-goes her, that Poverty should pursue her amidst abundance, and that gold which she adores should fill her cofers, yet not her heart. This metall not being to be divided without diminution, it kindles war amongst men, makes them severally minded, divides their wils, and causeth all those differences which justice endevours to decide. In the state of innocency, men possest all things in common, avarice had not as yet found out bounders to sever fields: Kings had not yet drawn lines to divide the sea: as Light is an universall good, so was the earth a common heritage, and this charitable mother was fruit∣full enough to nourish all her children. The poorest man that was, was a King of the whole world. Ambition had not yet form'd states, nor built strong holds upon their Frontiers, all things were possest in common, without any jealousie; self-love had not as yet perswaded any one, that to be master of a thing, all other men must be deprived of it. There was no such thing known as propriety, eve∣ry one was content with the riches of nature, and the earth forestal∣ling mens desire by her happy faecundity, men did with pleasure ga∣ther in her fruits without taking pains to husband her, a man would have thought he should have been become poor, if he had heaped up riches; and he who would have thought that by appropriating any grounds ••o himself, he should have renounced the worlds Sove∣reignty: as men do not divide the air, nor the light, so neither did they then divide the sea, nor land; and the seasons not being irregu∣lar, the whole world was but a stately palace whereof the heavens were the sieling, and the earth the floor. Meadows served for gar∣dens, rivers for channels, forrests were unwalled parks, and the open fields furnisht endlesse walks, large lakes served for fish-pools, and all mens delights were innocent, because purely naturall.

Art had not as yet corrupted Nature, under colour of imbellish∣ing her, every thing held that place in the world, which it deser∣ved;

gold ^s * 1.65 was not yet got out of the bowels of the earth, pearls lay quiet in the depth of the sea, and diamonds in rocks, not causing any confusion in the world: Marble was trampled under foot, vain glory had not yet found any use for it; and in a condition wherein neither heat nor cold did incommodate him, man had not yet thought of building houses, nor making himself apparell. Stuffs were unknown, because uselesse; colours appeared not in Lustre, save in pinks and roses; and necessity (which is not the mother of invention, but as it is the daughter of sin) had not obliged man to seek for remedies for miseries, which he did not as yet suffer: but as soon as he would be rich, he became poor; as soon as he heaped together imaginary goods, he lost such as were reall; and when he tilled the ground to make it more fruitfull, the earth punished his avarice by a universall sterility: she who together with fruites, bore flowers, bears now no roses without prickles: the spring which min∣gled her beauties with Autumns fertility was divided from thence by summers scorching heat, and winters benumming cold. These two vexatious seasons did disaray the trees, and had not the Angels taught sinfull man, how to sow the ground with seed, famine had prevented the deluge.

When he saw the world changed into a hideous sollitude, he was forced to build houses to fence himselfe against the fury of the Ele∣ment; he was on all sides so prest upon by poverty, as he was ne∣cessitated to seek out riches; barrennesse which threatned him with famine, made him till the ground; and the fear lest his neigh∣bours might reap the fruit of his labours, constrained him to make inclosures: he invented money to entertain commerce with strang∣ers; and seeking out a metall, the rarity whereof put a valuation upon it; he found out gold, which nature had hid within her bow∣els; he thought she had lodged it next her heart, witnesse the love she bare unto it; the pain he had to draw it thence added to his e∣steem thereof; and being dazled by it's colour, and charmed by the advantage he made thereby, he made thereof his first Idoll. The t 1.66 Israelites could not defend themselves against this mischie∣vous contagion, their getting out of Egypt, their passing through the red sea, & the raining of Manna in the Desart, were not miracles powerfull enough to divert them from so senselesse an Idolatry. They perswaded themselves, that gold was the God which had

delivered them; they were blinded by it's beauty; and though Aaron the High Priest had made it into the shape of a Calf, to make it appear the more ridiculous, it's being made of that mettall, was sufficient to make them worship it. Iron by divine providence had it's birth together with gold; for God knowing that murther could not be severed from avarice, he coupled these two mettals to∣gether, to the end that the one might be the price of our fraud, and the other the instrument of our fury.

Adultery followed murther; and chastity which had defended her selfe against what man could say to undermine her, could not defend her selfe against riches. Presents prevailed more than hum∣ble submissions, and this fraile sex, which affords so many advanta∣ges against it selfe, shew'd it selfe to be more avaritious, than proud. In fine, Poets were not much out of the way when they feigned that all evils had their birth together with riches, and that man be∣came sinfull, as soon as he grew rich; u 1.67 children attempted their fathers lives, wives poisoned their husbands, brother conspired a∣gainst brother, and every one made use of iron to come by gold. Justice was busied about nothing else but in composing quarrels oc∣casioned by this mettall, Gallouses were erected to punish murthe∣rers, and men knew that gold which he had found out to supply his necessities, was the cause of all his disasters.

But say that gold should not set men together by the ears, and that peace should not be troubled with the insatiable desire of riches, yet would it be always prejudiciall to a sinner, and he must wish to be poor, if he would recover his innocency. For all his desires are out of order, all his wishes unjust, and sin which doth possesse him, engageth him continually in pernitious designes, he owes all his innocency to his weaknesse, and if he do not perpetrate all the evill which he projects 'tis because Nature hath disabled him. But riches deprive him of this advantage by affording him means to do what he desires, and make a guilty man absolute, by bereaving him of the happy disability whereinto poverty had brought him. x 1.68 For if he be ambitious, he opens the gate which leads to honour with a golden key; if unchast, he corrupts womens chastity by presents; if angry, he finds enough basely conditioned men, who have cou∣rage enough to work his revenge; and if he love good cheer, he ransacks both sea and land to please his palat, and satisfie his belly.

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Thus is gold the instrument of all evill, it attempts chastity, cor∣rupts justice, sets upon innocency, and oppresseth poverty. When heaven is offended with a sinner, it needs but onely make him rich, to undo him; and make him wealthie to make him wretched; 'tis equivalent to putting a good sword into a mad mans hands, to the preserving of poyson in a christall glasse to one that is frantick, and to the setting of a blind man upon the top of a precipice tapistred with Jessemine and Lillies.

On the contrary, poverty is the sanctuary of innocency, there are fewer faults where lesse of abundance. Those who live by hunting and by fishing know not how to mingle poyson with their drink, if they kill their enemies, 'tis with arrows; and all their combats have lesse of art, and more of generosity in them, then ours have: luxury governs not amongst men who go naked; those families are not ruined with making stately structures, who can shelter themselves under trees, excesse in eating causeth no disasters in those who eat no∣thing but the fruits of the earth; and the steem of wine bereaves not them of reason, who drink nothing but spring water. These inno∣cent people value y 1.69 iron more then gold, and prizing things accor∣ding to their utility, they prefer what is most commodious, before what is most pleasing, they make use of iron to arive their arrows with, and to build their cabins; the same metall serves them both for peace and war; that which serves them for defence, serves them for ornament, and they place their riches where they find most com∣modiousnesse; they barter gold with us for Iron, they think they gain by an exchange, wherein to obtein what they desire, they ha∣zard not their liberty, nor do forego their countries, they wonder that we crosse so many seas, and run so many hazards for a metall which is but earth, before it be refined, z 1.70 which loseth his name in the fire, which finds it beauty in it's torments, which draws it's Lustre from the crusible, and which becomes not gold before it hath wearied the patience of the workmen. Pearls seem not more pretious to them; if they fish for them in the sea; 'tis that they may sell them to us; before our avarice had won them credit, children who made them their play-games, gave them to our merchants for cockle-shels; they look upon these stones which we esteem pretious, as the meer excrements of the fishes that produce them, they blame the esteem we put upon them, and being more rationall then we,

they conclude, that we do worship the things onely by reason of their rarity.

Aboundance is always accompanied with contempt, if gold were more common, 'twould be despised, that which grows in our cli∣mate, must passe into another to purchase reputation; and as there are some fruits which are not good till transplanted, so are there a thou∣sand things in the world, which are not prized till after they have changed their countrey. a 1.71 Barbarians did prophane gold before they knew the price thereof; because it was common amongst them, they made use thereof in infamous things: the chains of prisoners were made of this metall, those who were most guilty, were the most richly adorned, that which is here the ornament of Princes, was there the offenders punishment, thus this people had found out a harmles way how to make this metall odious. By all this discourse 'tis easily gathered, that riches are evils which though they be plea∣sing, cease not to be dangerous, that man is too much out of order to make good use thereof, that they are serviceable but to one ver∣tue, yet of use to all sins. Christians dispose of them by the way of alms, and Philosophers by way of liberality. But in the one and the other of them, avarice doth unjustly accumulate them, prodigality doth profusely dissipate them, pride makes use of them, to heighten her self, vain glory to adorn her self, and choller for revenge, they are onely usefull when they are given away with delight, and lost without sorrow. b 1.72 Their losse is a kind of traffick, he is wise who can acquit himself of them, and he is happy who can live without them. Jesus Christ despised them in his birth, rejected them whilest he lived, and condemned them in his death; he who will be his Disciple, must follow his example; and who believes that they fa∣cilitate our salvation, knows not that our Nature is corrupted by sin.

The sixth Discourse.

That since the losse of innocency Poverty is glorious.

The two loves that establish those two c 1.73 cities, the one of which had Jesus Christ for it's King, the other, the Devil for it's Tyrant, could never be reconciled together, their designs are as opposite, as their inclinations; and though they oft∣times march by the same track, they always tend to rather contrary, then differing ends. This truth appears by the use which they make of the miseries of corrupted nature, for self-love extracts sins from thence, divine love vertues; the one augments our evils whilest she would diminish them, the other diminisheth them, whilst she would augment them. From the scorn whereinto we are fallen since our re∣belllion, self-love hath formed a design of raising her self up; and (giving against Gods Justice) of finding her greatnesse in her abase∣ment, Divine love hath extracted humility from thence, and with an innocent piece of cunning, she leads us to glory by contempt. Self-loue raiseth despair from death, which is sins chiefest punish∣ment; and divine love raiseth from thence a sacrifice, which expi∣ats our offences, and gives honour to Gods justice from the crea∣tures revolt, which doth revenge our outrages done to heaven: self-love argues riot in apparel, magnificence in buildings, and all those other means which we have invented to defend our selves from the injuries of seasons, and divine love, which always prefers the glo∣ry of heaven before her own interest, argues repentance from thence, which teacheth us to undergo this persecution with humility. In fine, from the losse of our welfare self-loue hath made avarice arise, which justling Gods designs, undertakes to make man richer in his state of sin, then ever he was in that of innocency, and divine love, which takes pleasure in saving of a sinner by losing him, raiseth po∣verty from thence, depriving her self even of those things which her judge would not take from his enemies, that she may appease him. For d 1.74 it is true, that this vertue takes it's originall from onr punish∣ment,

'tis a remedy which we have got by our evil; and 'tis a cor∣rection which we endure to allay Gods anger.

Whilest man was innocent, he was rich; the sun by his heat made the earth fruitfull, he cherished it, without scorching; and his influences were so well tempered, as trees were always covered with fruit, leaves, and flowers; the fields were fertile without labour, every country bore every thing; and without crossing the seas, that was found in any one part of the world, which all the rest pro∣duced. Beasts which afforded nourishment for men yeilded milk in aboundance, running waters were never dried up; and provision was uselesse where there was perpetuall plenty. Bees wrought without wearing themselves, they made their hives at all times, and the earth being continually covered with flowers, there was no season wherein they did not make honey and wax. Man being clothed with innocency, he stript not beasts of their skins to cloth himself, the art of spinning was not as then found out, or if it were known to worms: man did not molest their labours; he admired the industry of their workmanship, the magnificency of their Tombs, and lea∣ving them to reassume life where they had left it, he delighted to see them after having been dead arise again.

The elements not having as yet vowed his undoing, he was not bound to guard himself from their injuries, the seasons were so re∣gular, as he neither feared heat nor cold; trees were his shelter from them both, and those which afforded him shade in the day∣time, served him for covering in the night. If gold were already ript out of the bowels of the earth, it was rankt amongst such things as are esteemed of more for their beauty, then profit. Man thought himself rich enough without that metall; having all things at his command he needed not to buy them: and art not being as yet come into the succour of Nature, he contented himself with looking up∣on what he could not make use of. In this happy condition, most desires were e 1.75 uselesse, and all those wishes which are occasioned by indigency not having as yet a mother, could not disquiet man. He was rich for he wanted nothing, Nature supplied all his needs, whil'st he slept void of care; the starrs which glittered above his head, did by their influences make the earth fruitfull, and the Rivers running amidst the fields, did by their waters bring plenty every where.

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But when man became faulty, he became poor; hee lost all his wealth, in losing the Summum Bonum, and that selfe same moment which robb'd him of his innocency, threw him headlong into poverty. The earth grew barren under his feet, her fruitfulnesse brought forth nothing but thornes; her bowels must be ript open ere she yeilded fruit, and she must be threatned with iron in her bosome to make her nourish us. Trees shook off their leaves, when winter had disrobed them, men thought that nature was drawing toward her end, and that the earth ceasing to be his Palace, grew to be his Sepulchre: shame shewing him that he was naked, made him make himselfe clothes of leaves, and cold which made him sensible of his sinfulnesse, forced him to apparell himselfe with skins. From that time forwards, necessity made him ingenious; f 1.76 he built Cabins to fence himselfe from the heat; he sowed corn, to avoid famine; finding that the earth was not fruitfull save by his labour, he lockt up what he had gathered thence, and to shun poverty, fell upon a∣varice. But he found by experience, that the remedy was worse than the disease, and that if poor men wanted many things, the covetous wanted all things.

Grace, which doth not abandon even the sinfull, taught him how to use this his punishment, and to turn hie poverty into an il∣lustrious vertue. He began to condemne perishable things, and to wish for things eternall; he endeavoured to forgo earth, that he might raise himselfe up to heaven; he had such happy successe in his designes, as he found plenty in poverty; and confest that that vertue had been more advantagious to him then innocency. To say truth; this pain was glorious when it became voluntary; and from once that man began to suffer indigency with humility, he found that God was his Father, Heaven his inheritance, Jesus Christ his Redeemer, and that the holiest blessings were his recompences. For g 1.77 God takes the poor into his protection, he who draws his ra∣rest qualities from his noblest works, and who makes himselfe be called the God of heaven and earth, would be called the Father of the poor; a man cannot set upon them, without hurting him, their interests are joyned to his glory, and whosoever makes war upon them, doth infallibly provoke his anger. He hath done a hundred miracles in their behalfe; and when Kings would obtain any favour from his goodnesse, they have assumed the quality of poor men, to

render themselves more considerable with him. David fore-went the quality of a King, to assume the name of needy, and his pover∣ty is the best reason which he alledges to obtain what he demands of God.

The Son of God values not this vertue lesse then doth his Fa∣ther; h 1.78 he hallowed it in his own person when he would become man; he preferr'd the condition of the poor before that of the rich; and he who was born in a manger, would live without a house, and die upon the Crosse; his disciples were all poor men, and of as many people as he chose to preach his Gospell throughout the world, there was not any one eminent for riches, nor dignity. Shep∣herds had notice of his birth before Kings, and the instruction of the poor was as well a proofe of his mission, as the healing of the sick, or raising of the dead.

Though his mysticall body be alike composed of rich and poor, though mens qualities are not considered, though his Church be as well open to the Gentiles, as to the Iews, and that slaves be admit∣ted into his house, as well as are their Master; yet the poor hold there the first place, and of as many members as go to the compo∣sure of that admirable body, they are the most precious. Kings are the hands thereof, Prelates the eyes, the people the feet; but the poor are the bowels of it, they are quartered next his heart; * 1.79 & when he shall descend from heaven, to revenge injuries done unto himselfe, and to punish our offences, he will begin with them who shall have neglected him in the poor: the highest favours on earth are reserved for them. Those dispensations which raise men to an absolute power, & which give them authority over the beasts, or Ele∣ments, are the reward of voluntary poverty. If the chief of the Apostles did miracles, 'tis because he fore-went his goods; if by his words he cured maladies, 'tis because he had forsaken all his ri∣ches; if his shadow cure the sick, 'tis because his heart was never wounded with avarice: k 1.80 and if nature bear a respect to his com∣mandments, 'tis because he had vowed poverty. When he healed the legs of the man that was born lame, he began by a confession of his poverty; he thought the first dressing which he was to apply to this evill, was the contempt of riches; Gold nor silver have I none, (saith he to this infir ne man) but that which I have, give I thee, in the Name of Iesus Christ, arise, and walk. Weaknesse bare respect

to poverty, nature violated her laws, to obey the words of the poor; and the heavens will was, that he who could give no alms, should do miracles.

In fine, Paradise is the poors inheritance, and after having com∣manded upon earth, they shall reign with Jesus Christ, in glory. That which is promised to other vertues, is performed to poverty; in the acknowledgement of merit, and the distribution of Crowns, the poor are dealt withall as advantagiously as are Martyrs; l 1.81 and these two conditions are equally rewarded in the Gospell to teach us, that poverty is a kind of Martyrdom. To say truth, if men do miracles, when they overcome pain, when they tire their Torturers, when they triumph over Tyrants, and vanquish the Elements, and wild beasts, do not they do wonders when they preserve poverty, amidst riches? sobriety amongst Festivals? when they go naked, amidst the pomp of apparell? when they are humble amidst ho∣nours? and when they persevere to refuse the Goods which the devill promiseth them, which the world offers them, and which the flesh propounds unto them? ought not they to be crowned, who overcome the world with all it's promises, who contemne the devill with all his illusions, and who tame the flesh with the con∣cupiscence thereof?

But in the advantages of poverty, we ought to observe the un∣rulinesse of our nature, which is reduced into such a condition, as she cannot without danger make use of what she hath of good: she cannot without injustice pretend to her ancient riches, neither can she acquire new wealth without avarice; we must look upon the things of this world without desiring them, we must live upon the earth, as in a place of exile, and to be happy and innocent, m 1.82 we must be poor, or imitate those that are so. The possession of riches is always accompanied with somwhat of Agglutination, which is never without impurity; we are slaves unto our wealth, they pos∣sesse us when we think to possesse them; we take pains in heaping them up, are carefull in keeping them, and sorrowfull in their losse; 'tis as troublesome to keep them, as to lose them, and the pain of purchasing them doth always exceed the pleasure of squandring them away. To free a mans selfe from these misfortunes, he must grow familiar with poverty, he must sweeten his pain by suffering it patiently, and look upon all the things of the world, as upon

goods which we had lost before were born. We are ruined in the person of our first father; our defeat as well as our default preceded our use of reason, and the same fault which took from us our inno∣cency, bereft us of our riches. If we make use of the blessings of the earth, 'tis out of mercy: if the Sun light us, the earth support us, and the fruits thereof do nourish us, 'tis an obligation which we owe unto our God: when once he pronounced the decree of our death, our goods were confiscated to him; the power of making use of them, is a priviledge which we hold of his goodnesse, and he deals with us, as we do with those malefactors which we suffer to live in prison, after their sentence of death is past: if they dispose of their goods, 'tis by their Prince his favour; and if they leave them to their children, 'tis by his permission. Thus we ought to think that nothing belongs to us in this world, that God gives us all which he takes not from us, and that he makes use of his own rights, when he re-demands that which he had but lent us.

When Famine doth dispeople the earth, when all our labour cannot overcome her sterility, and when the seed we sow answers not our expectation, we ought to adore Gods justice, which having sentenced us to death, hath reserved unto himself the kind of our punishment. n 1.83 If souldiers plunder our houses, if they do what they please abroad, if they burn what they cannot carry away, and if they in a moment destroy what we have been gathering many years; we must think that poverty is the punishment of our disobe∣dience, that we have no more right to our goods than to our lives, and that he may well ruine us who can when it pleaseth him make us die. If our families be undone by law, if Judges be corrupted by the credit of a powerfull man, if those who ought to defend us do oppresse us, and if an unjust decree bring us to beggery; let us re∣member that the decree pronounced against us in Paradise, o 1.84 was more rigorous and more just, that succession or industry is no prescription against Gods Justice, that how soever our goods be gotten, they are always forfeited to him; and that processe at law is as lawfull a way to bereave us of them as fire or shipwrack. In fine, whatsoever losse befals us, let us find our consolation, in our offence; let us make our punishment, our remedie; and whilst we consider that we are guilty let us not complain of being poor.

The seventh Discourse.

That Apparell is a mark of sin

IF whole man be but meer vanity, if Nature be out of order by his disobedience, if his soul, which hath the honour to be the i∣mage of God, and which boasts of her innocency, ceaseth not to find death in his sin; if the will which joyned with Grace is the be∣ginning of merit, be more inclined to vice then vertue; if his under∣standing which enlightens all the faculties of the soul, be more ca∣pable of errour then of truth; if all his knowledge be but meer ig∣norance; if his most perspicuous vertues want not their faults; and if his body be his souls prison, we must not wonder that the necessi∣ty of apparel be a punishment of his fault, as well as riot therein is a mark of his vain glory. But as it often fals out, that we are most ta∣ken with things of least consideration, we find by experience, that there are women in the world, who would rather have their souls sullied, then their cloths; p 1.85 who would rather have the state be out of order, then their head attire; and who would be lesse troubled to see their honour steined, then their gown. To disabuse these weak women, they must be made know, that luxury in apparell deserves to be despised by men, and to be punished by God.

Cloaths have two uses, which are equally lawfull, the first is to cover our nakednesse, and to hide our body, which began to be shamefull when it ceased to be innocent, Adam could not endure himself when he had lost originall righteousnesse, and the shame which infused upon his sin, made him seek out leaves to hide that from his eyes which did displease his soul, he was afraid of himself, when he saw his body did no longer obey reason: he was afraid to offend nature by his nakednesse, not having as yet seen any other monster then himself, he withdrew himself into a wood, and not being able to shun himself, he endevoured to cover himself. q 1.86 God himself, who was indulgent to him in his sin, cut out his first sute, and to free him from shame, which was not his least severe punish∣ment, he clothed him with the skin of beasts.

The second use of Apparell is to shelter us from the injury of seasons, r 1.87 and to free our bodies from the rigour of the Elements; for man had no sooner violated Gods Commandements, but all the creatures rebelled against him: beasts began to grow savage, and retired themselves into the woods, that they might no longer treat with a rebell; those which are now reclaimed owe their mildnesse to our cunning, and stay not with us but because we have drawn them from the Forrests; if they obey us, 'tis out of hope of some advantage; and our rebellion having freed them from their oath of Allegiance, which they had taken in Paradise, we must feed them, if we will have any service from them. Those which do reserve their naturall fiercenesse, submit not un-inforced to our will, they must be made to suffer before they be tamed, and our power being Tyrannicall, their obedience is constrained. They are slaves which serve but by force, and who to free themselves from their servitude attempt somtimes upon our lives.

At the same time when the beasts fore-went their mildnesse, the Elements changed their qualities; s 1.88 those four bodies whereof all other bodies are composed, declared war one against another to af∣flict us, and breaking the bonds which nature had prescribed them, intrencht one upon another, to the end, their division might be our punishment. They did that to punish us, which greatest enemies use to revenge themselves; they endangered their own losse out of a desire to destroy us. The earth which had served us for a nurse, became barren to make us perish by famine; she grew hard under our feet to weary us: forgoing her flowers where with she adorned her selfe to appear more pleasing to us, she loaded her selfe with thorns to prick us; she opened her bowels to bury us; and she who grounded upon her own proper weight, was always immoveable, quaked under our feet to work our astonishment. The Sea w^ch judged aright, that our ambition & avarice would not be contented with the Empire of the earth, t 1.89 hid rocks underneath her waves, troubled her calmnesse with storms, call in winds to her aid to undo us, and advancing her waters into the fields, came to set upon us amidst our own Territories: the aire which seemed not able to hurt us, save by denying us respiration, corrupted her naturall purenesse, to make us sickly, lent her bosome to the Tempests, became the recep∣tacle of haile and snow, and being serviceable to Gods Justice, be∣came

the Magazine of his Thunder and Lightnings, sent Pesti∣lences into the world, turned a simple sicknesse into a contagion, and carrying corruption through all parts, did oft-times change the earth into a fatall sepulcher. u 1.90 Fire being the most active of all the Elements, did us more harm then all the rest; for this body which seems to be but a pure spirit, and by which the Angels themselves did not disdain to be called, crept into the Thunder, and agreeing with it's enemy, formed storms wherein the waters mingled with flames of fire seem to conspire mans death, and the worlds over-throw; contrary to it's nature, which seeks out high places, it de∣scends, and gliding into the entrails of the earth, excites earthquakes, consumes mountains, and devours whole Towns: to revenge it it selfe for the wrongs which we make it suffer by making it a slave to all Arts, it burns those who come nigh it, it consumes what is given it, and not interessing it selfe with mens designes, it oft-times mars their workmanship.

But man was not so sensible of all these persecutions, as of that of the Sun; for this glorious constellation drew up ma∣lignant vapours, spred abroad mortall influences, disordered the course of the seasons, parted the Spring from the Autumne, which were all one in the state of innocency; stript the Trees of their leaves in winter, withered the flowers in Summer, and bereft the earth of her ornaments, and riches. Amidst so many disorders, man was bound to make him clothes, and to rob his subjects that he might defend himselfe against his enemies. He hunted wilde beasts, clothed himselfe with their skins; he who had aspired to make himselfe a God, was brought to a condition of decking him∣sefe with the hides of Animals, and learnt to his cost, that no ap∣parell is proofe for all seasons, but that of Innocency.

Thus his being necessitated to cloth himselfe is a mark of his of∣fence, let him do what he can to turn this punishment into brave∣ry, x 1.91 he is bound to confesse, that he covers his body only to fence himselfe from pain, and shame, had he preserved the respect which he ought to God, his body would not have rebelled against his soul, and had not this particular revolt been followed by a generall rebellion, he needed not have been obliged to seek for Arms to de∣fend himselfe against his subjects. He sees then his fault in his ap∣parell, they are sensible tokens of his disobedience, and would he

govern himself by reason, he should chastize his body as oft as he puts on his cloths: and yet we seem to have a design to out-brave divine justice, and to laugh at it's decrees; to glory in it's punishments and to make that serve for our glory which ought to serve for our confusion; for there is hardly any one who doth not some ways ad∣vantage himself by his apparell, who doth not heighten himself by the Lustre of gold or pearl, and who turns not the shamefull marks of his undoing into stately Trophies of his victory. Adam was never so ashamed as when he was forced to cloth himself, the skins he wore were the apparell of a penitent; before that vanity had found out a means to imbellish them, they drew tears from his eyes, and sighs from his mouth. He never clothed himself but he bewailed his inno∣cency, and when cold weather made him put on more cloths he con∣sidered how the irregulariry of the seasons, was the punishment of his sin. y 1.92 His wife knew not as yet the art of trimming her self, all her daughters eloquence could not perswade her that that which was a punishment of her disobedience should adde unto her beauty; and comparing her innocency with all her other ornaments, she could never think to gain by an exchange, where for originall righ∣teousnesse which she lost she got nothing but the slaver of worms, or scum of fishes.

Let us use what art we can to lenifie our losse or to excuse our vanity, we cannot deny but that our most gaudy apparell are the spoils of beasts; and that we are very miserable since betraying our greatnesse, we seek for ornaments in the bottome of the sea, or in the bowels of the earth, for what else is wooll but sheep fleeces? what is silk whereof so many different silks are made but the drivell of worms, and the sepulchre which those little animals make unto themselves when they die? what is purple which had wont to be the badge of Sovereignty, but the bloud of certain fishes? z 1.93 what are Pearls but the warts of certain shel-fish, and the thickest part of the fome of the sea, which could not be turned into it's substance? what are diamonds and rubies but water congealed within rocks? what is gold which is made use of in so many prophane things, which men disguise in so many shapes, which is sought for with so much pain, which is got with so much injustice, and kept with so much care, but the excrement of a barren soil, to which the fire gives Lustre, and our errour valuation? what in fine, is the linnen cloth

with which we are covered all over, and wherein the greatest part of our vanity consists but a kind of herb or grasse which we see grow up and die, flourish in the fields, and in a short time weather away? which passeth through womens hands, which is wetted with their spittle, turned with the spindle, strecht upon the loom, wrought with the shittle, whitened in the dew, and at last cut into bands and handcherchiefs? must not one have lost his judgment to glory in such trifles? and if his ornament deserve any praise, is it not rather due, to those that made them, then to those that wear them? who∣soever glories in a sute of apparell intrencheth upon his tailors right, and who values himself the more for the stuffe he wears, injures the worms that spun it, or the workmen a 1.94 that wrought it. Our glory ought to be in our selves, and we ought never to ground our great∣nesse upon a thing which we forego as oft as we put off our cloths. A man must not adorn himself with that which he borrows from o∣ther creatures, and to believe that all the spoils of nature can heigh∣ten his descent is to have too ill an opinion of himself.

But if the materials whereof our cloths be made be contemptible, the cause why we wear them is criminall; for those who may be said rather to set out, then to cloth themselves, and who joyn pleasures to necessity, have for the most part but two designs, which are equally unjust. The first is to satisfie themselves, and to entertein their self-love by the care they have of their body; they will make an Idol of a slave, adorn a guilty person who deserves death, bring him with pomp to his punishment, and disguise his misery to flatter his am∣bition: they are like those captives who think the better of their I∣rons because they are guilded: yet all their ornaments are but marks of their sin and mis-fortunes; and as a foot-man who wears a gaudy livery makes but his misery more visible, those who trim themselves the finest make but their shame more publick. The art of trimming or adorning acknowledgeth no author but the Devil. b 1.95 He who taught the curious the vertue of herbs to make their inchantments, and the influences of the stars to order their Horiscopes by; he who taught the avaritious the way to purifie the earth, to make thereof the preciousest of metalls, he who taught the ambitious the secret of intrenching upon the peoples liberty, taught women to mingle colours, to polish diamonds,, to calcive pearls, to compose materi∣als, and to falsifie whole nature to inhaunce their beauty, and to ac∣quire

reputation by the losse of their modesty: ought not this masters condition infuse distrust into his disciples? and if women had not as well lost their judgment as their modesty, would they not believe that a sinfull Angell would tarnish their innocence, that impure spirits would attempt their chastity, and that rebellious slaves would endevour to make them lose their humility?

The second designe of those who delight in sumptuous apparell is to please those that look upon them, to entangle souls in their nets, to purchase lovers, or slaves, to govern by the pomp of their apparell, as Monarchs do by the terrour of their Arms. This is the more usuall, and the more dangerous motive: the more usuall, be∣cause vain glory seeks out a Theater, because self-love, as well as ambition, will have spectatours. c 1.96 To say truth, women do not greatly care for dressing themselves when they are alone; solitari∣nesse is an enemy to pomp; a body is soon weary of linifying him∣selfe when he means not to appear, the pain he findes in doing it makes him lose the pleasure of it; and as Peacocks close up their plumes when no body beholds them, women neglect their dressing when no body admires them. They reserve their pearls and dia∣monds for great meetings; Courts, and Masks, are the occasions whereupon they heighten their beauty; and when they have nei∣ther witnesses to observe them, nor servants to adore them, selfe love is not of power enough to make them adorn themselves.

As this motive is the more usuall, so is it the more sinfull; for to boot that a woman that will cause love in another, runs danger of being caught therewithall her selfe; that it is hard to carry fire to ones neighbour, without self-burning; 'tis assuredly to imitate the devill, to serve for instruments to wicked spirits, to lose the souls that Jesus Christ would save, and to present poison, or a po∣niard, to mad men, who would kill themselves. Let women dis∣guise their designes how artificially they please, let them excuse their intentions by their pretences; the endeavouring to seem plea∣sing to men, is never blamelesse, the desire of entangling them is always sinfull, and the care they take in attiring themselves, either to captivate them, or to continue them captives, is equally preju∣diciall to their chastity. Pomp and luxury in apparell savours of prostitution or vain glory, d 1.97 both these faults are contrary to our religion; The difference of condition is but a piece of cunning

which self-love hath found out to authorize our disorders. Our first condition is the condition of sinners; we are sinners, before we be Sovereigns, our souls were sullied with Adams sin, before our bodies were clad in purple; and all the titles which flattery confers upon us cannot efface that of guilty. It precedeth our birth, accom∣panieth our life, and doth almost always follow our death, so as from the cradle to the grave, our chiefest ornament ought to be modesty, and our apparel ought to partake more of penitency then of vanity. If we will e 1.98 not have the Angels to be therewithall scandalized, they must not savour of novelty, they must not be riotous, and nothing must be therein observable which denotes insolency or uncleannes: cloths were invented by shame and pain, whatsoever ambition or self-love hath added thereunto is superfluous, and who governs him∣self by custome, or excuseth himself by his condition, forgets that he is a Christian, or remembers not that he is a sinner.

The eighth Discourse.

That the shame which accompanieth Nakedness, is a punishment for our offence.

PHilosophers who knew not the secret of originall sin, thought nature rather to be the step-dame, then the mother of man, and that she had not given such testimony of her care of his preservation, as of that of other creatures: beasts are born with their weapons and their apparell; they are provided either of hair or wool to fence them from the cold, and armed either with horns, or claws to defend themselves against violence, those of the weaker sort have their wiles to free themselves from their pursuers, and if they want both strength and cunning, nature hath furnished them with agility to shun their enemies who hunt after them; thus we see that Lyons are armed with teeth and claws, and that these generous animals confiding in force, never refuse to fight when combate is offered, bulls have their horns, stags their coverts, wild bores their tusks, and all these differing defences, are so well munited, as a man cannot set upon them without danger of being hurt. Hunting is an exer∣cise

wherein danger is mixt with delight, if the hunters give blows, they oft-times receive some, and if deer or wild goats suffer them∣selves to be tame, 'tis not without revenge. Foxes have so many wiles, as it is experienced as well in hunting as in war; that it is ea∣sier to overcome a couragious enemy, then a crafty one. Does, Hindes, and Hares, are so swift of foot, as dogs nor horses can∣not overtake them; these timerous beasts find their safety in their feet, and as the Parthians fight retreating, these overcome their ene∣mies by running away.

Man on the contrary, who glories himself to be the Lord of the Universe, f 1.99 enters into his dominions without either weapons, or apparell. He finds his subjects revolted, and hath neither strength nor agility to reduce them to their duty, he is sensible of the unsea∣sonablenesse of seasons, yet cannot fence himself from their irregula∣rities, nor defend himself from their disorders. He makes triall of the rigour of the elements, yet cannot keep himself uninjured by them: he is exposed to the fury of his enemies, and wants weapons to fight them: and nature dealing with him, as with a monster or an illegitimate child; affords him onely tears to bewail himself; he must be brought by time to the use of reason, before he can either make himself cloths or weapons, for fourteen years space he is a prey for wild beasts, and did not necessity make him ingenious, he would be the most miserable of all creatures. g 1.100 The rest are clothed as soon as born; natures self takes care of clothing them, their ap∣parell constitutes a part of their body, and the hair or wool which covers them is the meer work of nature: but man is stark naked, when he parts from his mothers womb, his skin is so tender as the very air offends it, he must be put in prison, to be freed from the fu∣ry of his enemies, he is treated like a slave to save his life, and he is not suffered to make use of any of his members, lest he use them to his own prejudice. When he is grown great, he is bound to make war upon nature, to preserve himself; to unrobe beasts to cloth him∣self, he must use a kind of Tyranny upon creatures, if he will free himself from the fury of the elements, and he hath so little credit in his dominions, that as he must tear up the earth for food, so must he strip beasts to cloth himself.

Though these Philosophers complaints may appear just, yet are they irrationall; had they known mans fault they would never

have blamed nature? for she was not his step-dame, till he became a sinner; neither was she cruell to him, till he was disobedient to God; during his innocency, she had largely provided for all his affairs; h 1.101 originall righteousnesse served him for clothes, and though this apparell was so very purely fine, yet was it proofe against all seasons: as Summer was not excessively hot, so neither was Winter extreamly cold; Spring and Autumne were so pleasantly inter-mingled, as man though naked, suffered no incommodity: Trees which lent him their shade to refresh him, did not as yet fur∣nish him with leaves to cover him: the earth brought forth no thorns to offend him, it was so smooth, and so all of a piece, as he might touch it, and not hurt himselfe, the grasse and flowers where∣with it was beautified, served in stead of a pleasing Carpet, which satisfied his eyes, and was easie to his feet: In fine, sin not having as yet wounded his soule, he was not inforced through shame to co∣ver his body; he beheld himselfe with delight, not with shame; Gods workmanship not being yet through disobedience gone astray, he observed nothing therein which was not pleasing to him; and to say all in a word, as he had no faulty parts, so had he no shamefull ones; he saw not in his body, the pictures of his soules rebellion, and whil'st the soul obeyed God, all parts of the body obeyed the soul: i 1.102 but as soon as he grew guilty, he was forced to betake himselfe to apparell, to free him from pain and shame; for in a moment the seasons grew out of order, the Elements waged war as well in his Dominions as in his body: the earth mingled thorns with roses, the face thereof which formerly was smooth, became furrowed; and stones succeeding in the place of flowers, turned a delightfull garden into a horrid desart. Man hearing storms thunder over his head, and feeling thistles spring under his feet, was inforced to cover both head and feet to preserve life.

He was no lesse opprest with shame then pain, and the amaze∣ment he was in, to see the shadow of sin upon his body, made him resolve to cloth himselfe, as well as did the irregularity of the sea∣sons: the Lord of the whole world who bare the Image of God, imprinted in his face, was a ghast to see himself; he could not endure his nakednesse, after once he had lost his innocency; he sought for leaves to hide his rebellion, and not having yet felt any pain for his sin, he was ashamed of his punishment; he observed an impudent

novelty, which made him judge his nakednesse unseemly; k 1.103 he knew by the disorders which he found in himselfe, that obedience of the soul caused obedience in the body; and that the revolt of the one arose from the like of the other. Since this fatall hour, man had shame mingled with his delights; those which are most re∣quisite are most shamefull; those delights, by which the world is preserved, are infamous; those which withstand death, and make amends for the havock he makes in families, require solitude, and darknesse. Man hides himselfe to re-produce himselfe; l 1.104 marriage which is holy in it's Institution, and sacred in it's type, is shame∣full in it's use; nor hath the necessity which doth authorize it, been able to take away the shame which doth accompany it.

Mans death is more honourable than his birth; they glory in murder though it be unjust, and are ashamed of marriage, though it be lawfull. Open Champions are the Theaters whereon battels are fought; these fatall and bloudy actions are done at noon day: they are made famous, and publique by the beating of drums, and sound of Trumpets; all men are called in to assist in the routing of an Army; the Conquerours ground their renown upon the num∣ber of the enemy that are left dead in the place; and that which is termed a Triumph, is the reward of an hundred thousand murders; but mans birth is shamefull, m 1.105 this guilty party steals into the world. Solitarinesse and obscurity are destined for his production, and na∣ture, makes him suspect that his conception is criminall, since 'tis infamous. I very well know that a modern Authour hath imputed this shame to mans fantasticknesse, that he hath endeavoured ef∣frontedly to maintain, that that ought not to be esteemed shame∣full, that was naturall; that amongst Philosophers the production of man was esteemed honourable, and that the Art which instru∣cteth how to murder was as infamous, as unjust; but this Authour who never had other guide, than nature; no religion, but liberti∣nisme; no faith, but experience; nor other felicity, then the de∣light of the sense; had not fallen into this errour, if he would have consulted the holy Scripture: he might there have learnt, that shame was born together with sin, that nakednesse accompa∣nied innocency, and that man did not abhor himselfe, till he be∣came sinfull. If he commit murder with impunity, if he boast of fighting; if he be not pleased in the glory thereof, save when it is

bloudy; 'tis because sin hath corrupted his reason, and that enga∣ging him in cruelty, it hath made him turn beast. But not to engage my self in seeking out the cause of so strange a disorder, which seem to countenance murther, and to place mans glory in the de∣struction of his like, 'twill suffice to know that shame is the punish∣ment of n 1.106 sin, and that nakednesse o 1.107 was banished from off the earth, together with innocence. Man could not consider his bodies re∣volt without confusion, he was troubled to see that he who was so absolute in the world, was now no longer so in his own person; and that he who commanded over savage beasts, could not commmand the moyetie of himself.

'Tis argued against this truth, that the Barbarians continue their going naked, though they have lost their innocency, that shame hath not been able to make them cloth themselves, and that nature which is equall in all nations, hath not imprinted in them that re∣sentment of shame which makes even the most affronted to cover themselves, and to carry this their argumentation higher, and to give it all the strength they can, they say that these people discove∣red of late, are not polluted with originall sin, since shame which is the punishment thereof, hath not as yet appeared in their faces. They laugh at our apparell, and their climats being much more hot then ours, they are contented with such clothing as nature hath gi∣ven them; and they leave us in doubt whether shame be a punish∣ment of sin or no, since they being as well faulty as we, they are ei∣ther lesse ashamed or more affronted. p 1.108 To answer this objection we must suppose that shame q 1.109 which is a punishment of our sin, is also a remainder of our innocency; that Adam who lost grace, lost not reason; that that light of nature which remained to him, in his ob∣scurity, was sufficient to make him distinguish between good & bad, and to make him abhorre that which contradicted seemlinesse. Though he endevoured to excuse his fault, he observed the disorder thereof; and though he loved the greatnesse which he had unjustly endevoured, he forbare not to blame his rashnesse. Though this re∣morse was not sufficient to obtein pardon for hisoffence, 'twas sharp enough to cause shame in him; and that of reason which remained in him, was sufficient to make him blush. His passions revolt caused as much shame as pain in him, and the rebellion of his flesh made him cover himself as well as the rigour of the elements: this punish∣ment

was mixt with grace, and God who would not for ever undo him, sent him this shame to reduce him to his duty: 'twas an evidence that though his nature was r 1.110 corrupted, yet it was totally destroyed; and that sin which had tyrannized over him; had not been able to efface all the principles which he had received from his Sovereign: but he neglecting the use thereof, and those who came of him not improving this remainder of innocency, it grew weaker with time, and the more faulty they grew, the more shamelesse they grew.

They lost as well the shame of sin as the knowledge of God, they lost the onely advantage which remained to them in their mis∣fortune, and nature growing obdurate, they did no longer lament their past happinesse, nor were they ashamed for their present misery. This is that which makes the Barbarians not blush at their nakednes, which makes them glory in their shame, which makes them esteem that naturall, s 1.111 which is irregular; and which makes them authorize their disorder by their evill custome. We must not wonder if those who have lost all the sense of humanity, have not preserved the like of shamefac'tnesse; if those who make greatnesse of courage to con∣sist in revenge makes simplicity to consist in impudence: if those who eat mans flesh, do prostitute it, and if those wild people who know no religion, be likewise ignorant of modesty: but I wonder why Christians take upon them the fashions of Infidels, why shame∣lessnesse should passe from America into Europe, why believing women who have no more familiar vertue then shamefac'tnesse, should imitate Barbarians, and that by discovering their bosoms, they should defie modesty. They put on their apparell not to cover themselvs, but to make a shew; that which served for their shame serves now for their vain glory; apparell which was the mark of their modesty, is now a proof of their impudence; did not the t 1.112 wea∣ther constrein them to put on cloths, they would go naked; their vanity is such as seeks onely occasion to shew it self, they cast off their handcherchiefs in great assemblies, 'tis uncivill to be vailed at a mask or a play; and they are ashamed to appear modest, where men use all their art to make them unchast. Thus great meetings are no∣thing but publick prostitutions, innocency is there destroyed by bringing nakednesse in fashion; and men lend weapons to the Devil, to undo the subjects of Jesus Christ.

The ninth Discourse.

That Buildings are the work of Necessity, Pleasure, or Vainglory.

THough we do not know all mans advantages in the state of innocency, and that that happy condition be not much la∣mented because 'tis not much known; yet we very well know it was exempt from pain as well as from sin; and that man saw no∣thing neither in his person, nor in his state, which caused either pain or shame in him. The body was subject to the soul, and the senses, which so often break t 1.113 loose that they may fix themselves to ob∣jects without reasons permission, did nothing but by her order; and this Sovereign was so absolute, as her subjects had no other inclina∣tions, but what were hers.

The world was as much at quiet as man was, and the elements w^th by their contesting molest him, held so good intelligence as the one never intrencht upon the rights of the other; men neither feared the overflowings of rivers, earthquakes, nor fires; the earth was a temple and a palace, Religion did so well agree with nature, as the same place served man to do his homage to God in, and to disport himself in, he saw his Creator in every Creature, they were images which painted forth unto him the perfection of him that made them, when he beheld them for his pastime, his pleasure was not to be par∣ted from his piety, and contenting his curiosity, he satisfied his du∣ty. u 1.114 This Temple was also his palace, he could wish for nothing, neither for pastime, nor yet for profit, which was not in this stately habitation. The heavens served him for a canopie, and the irregula∣rity of the seasons had not yet obliged him to deprive himself by buildings, of the sight of the most beautifull part of the world; the Sun was his torch, and when this glorious constellation withdrew himself to give light to the other half of the earth, the stars step∣ping into his place, afforded light enough, not to leave men in dark∣nesse, grasse mingled with flowers served him for his bed: Trees lent him their shade, and holes which nature had hollowed in rocks

served him for Chambers and Closets. Gates were needlesse when there was no fear of theeves, x 1.115 and windows would have been uselesse when people apprehended neither winde, nor rain. Nature had so well provided for all things as arts were superfluous; and her workmanship was so exact as mans industry could adde no∣thing thereunto; all the fields were gardens; all Forrests, Parks; all dens, Palaces; and though the floud hath changed the face of the world, it's out-rages could not efface the beauty thereof. There be Forrests yet thick enough to shelter us, Champions of extent enough to weary our eyes, Vallies delightfull enough for diversion to them, and Cavernes rich enough to satisfie them: the pillars which sustain these forrests, are the models of our Columnes, the brooks which water these Champions, have furnisht us with the in∣vention of water-pipes; the concavity of Trees hung in the aire, hath taught our Architechts to vault buildings; their proportions have caused Symmetry, and the Caverns in mountains, are the originall of our houses.

'Tis true that where sin had corrupted man, and disordered na∣ture, we were forced to raise buildings to save our selves from the injury of weather; and not being secure in a condition where we saw so many subjects revolted, we were necessitated to build Cita∣dels to keep us from being surprized by them. y 1.116 But necessiy not being so ingenious as self-love, she was contented with providing remedies for the most pressing evils, and did not seek so much for accommodation, as for preservation. The first houses were but one story high, the earth afforded the materials, and Thatch was the co∣vering; man finding nothing delightfull, in so sad an abode wisht for an earthly Paradise, and never thought of his former condition, without being sorry for his disobedience, which had banished him from thence: he never betook himselfe to this prison, but either when the nights obscurity, or the weather, made him seek for Co∣vert; he looked upon it as upon his grave, and living in so unplea∣sing an abode, he did by degrees prepare himselfe for death; but when self-love grew weary of suffering the punishment of it's sin, and when justling divine Justice it would finde out a Paradise in this world; it inuented Architecture, and taught man how to change his prison into a Palace: under the conduct of so good a Master he raised stately Palaces, he sought for stone in the bowels

of the earth, he polisht them with tools, he ranked them with Sym∣metry, and placing one of them on the top of another, he made his exile glorious, and his prison pleasing.

Those who will excuse this disorder, say that 'tis a work worthy the wisdom of man; that he is not forbidden to defend himselfe from natures out-rages; that it is to imitate God, and that every building is an image of the world, and an Epitome of the Universe; that time is requisite to bring things to perfection, that the first men were not lesse vain, but lesse industrious; that if Adam had been a good Architectour, he would not have left his children so long in Dens, and Cabins: that houses were the beginning of Towns; that a 1.117 men were never civilized till they lived within the circuit of wals; and that whil'st they lay in Forrests, their lives were rather bestiall, then rationall.

But let vanity make what excuses she pleaseth, it is not to be denied but that buildings as well as apparell, do prove our guilt, and that the excesse and pomp which are used therein, are marks of our ambition; for houses are built either out of Necessity, Plea∣sure, or Vain-glory; and men seek for nothing therein but the pre∣servation of their life, the satisfaction of their senses, or the ho∣nour of their name. Our first fathers built only to shun the perse∣cution of the Elements; they were contented with a house which saved them from storms, and provided that it would afford them shade against the Sun, and covering against the cold, they were well apayed: Architecture was not yet become an art, every man was his own Architect: after having cut out his clothes, he made himselfe a house; and seeking only how to fence himselfe against the incommodities of life, he sought for neither delight, nor vain∣glory in buildings: two Trees joyned together did oft-times make a house, the entrance into a rock would with small cost, lodge a whole family; b 1.118 and the thickets which now serve for a retreat for wilde beasts served to lodge men in: Nature was indulgent to these innocent malefactours; seeing they bare respect to Gods Justice, which did punish them; she allai'd the rigour of the Elements, and regulated the Seasons disorders. Though these first men were lesse guilty than we, and that their buildings were the meer workman∣ships of necessitie, yet they did acknowledge Adams rebellion: as oft as they withstood themselves into those Sanctuaries of dirt

and mire, they were bound to believe that during the state of inno∣cency, the world was not an Enemies Countrey, & that the creatures did not make war against them, till their Father had rebelled against God.

When they had lost the remembrance of the earthly Paradise, and their sorrow for the losse thereof, they endeavoured to content themselves in their exile, & to please themselves in their structures, they inclosed whole Champians within their Parks, they changed rivers into Water-works; and Forrests which served for coverts to wilde beasts, into Groves, for the better ornament of their houses: c 1.119 that which did suffice to lodge a whole Generation, was too little to lodge a single Family; one man possessed more land then a Nati∣on; and that which formerly made up a little Kingdom, was now the Farm for one particular man: they made Nature serve their pleasures; they corrupted her who gloried to follow Gods orders, did fit her inclinations to their designs; they saw no rivers, on the banks whereof they raised not up houses of delight; wheresoever the earth threw out warm water, they there made bathes; where the Sea advanced it to the Land, they there made fish-ponds, and pre∣scribing bounds to this Element, which receives Laws only from God: they forced the fiercenesse thereof to be serviceable to their pastimes: they built Citadels on the tops of mountains, to discover the subjacent Countreys, and changing Champians into large pa∣stures, they made their neighbours inheritances serve their delights.

But mans luxury growing weary of things when they became common, and despising what it possesseth, after having gotten from nature all that they could hope for, they disordered her course, to finde contentment in her disorder: they turned the course of rivers to inclose their Palaces withall, they raised up vallies, and levelled mountains; that they might exercise their tyranny every where, they found the invention of Arches to build in the aire, and of A∣queducts to bring water into Towns; they planted forrests on the top of their houses, d 1.120 and bringing themselves to mans first condi∣tion, they lodged under trees and woods; they built in barren pla∣ces, that they might please themselves in overcoming nature; they peopled Desarts to drive Lions thence; and to take pleasure in pain, which seems to be her Enemy, they built houses in the midst of solitary places. But certainly they were forced to confesse that

they were inconsiderate in building so great Palaces for a man, who during his life, and after death takes up but seven foot of earth, they grew weary of so great buildings, they lost themselves in these Labyrinthes, and knowing that they could fill but one chamber, they acknowledged it was unjustly done to build so prodigious a number of rooms, e 1.121 they learn't by experience, that what they could not possesse belonged not to them: and that to build in so ma∣ny places, was to make lodgings for Owles, and to prepare habita∣tions for Horn-Coots.

Vain glory reaped no advantage by the faults pleasure committed, but looking upon the works thereof onely as upon beginnings, she undertook whatsoever seemed to be impossible, and her raising of Colossuses and Pyramides was onely to purchase fame: she thought that of all mans works there was none more withstood the injuries of time, then those huge heaps of stone and rocks; she esteemed victories, odious, battles, bloudy; and thought that Triumphs re∣quired Historians and Poets, to make them be known: she knew that Children were not immortall, that kingdomes had their peri∣ods as well as families; and that the vertues of Princes were aswell buried in oblivion, as their vices: she was perswaded nothing was of so long continuance as buildings, that the vast greatnesse thereof, rendered their authors memorable to posterity, and that the works of so many hands and so many years, could not perish but together with the world. Upon this foolish belief, Kings caused Colossuses to be built of so prodigious a height, that ships passed between their legs with their Masts up and Sails displayed: they built Pyramides, the foundations whereof descended even unto hell, and their tops were lost in the clouds: they tired their subjects to content their am∣bition; they threw all the revenues of their kingdomes into the bowels of the earth, to purchase reputation; they engraved their names in brasse, they hung their arms round about the wals of towns, and because marble is more solid then paper, they thought that that these monuments of vain glory would last longer then the wri∣tings of Orators or Philosophers.

This passion is as ancient as the deluge, f 1.122 those that descended from Noah were the first that attempted it: they would leave marks of their might to posterity, before they would divide themselves to

people the world; they undertooke a piece of work worthy their vain glory, and not knowing the distance between heaven and earth, they resolved to erect a tower which should unite them both toge∣ther: they thought certeinly heaven might have been taken by Sca∣lado, and that without taking the pains to win it by their vertue, they might take it in by storming. No lesse then a miracle could disswade them from so rash a design, they laid the foundation of this building so deep in the earth, as they hoped to reach to heaven, after having come so neer hell: their work advanced insensibly, they had already outgone the highest mountains, they saw storms formed under their feet; they wondered that drawing neerer to the Sun, the cold grew the greater, they could not comprehend how getting so far from the earth, their approach towards heaven should be so very small, they lost the sight of men, the greatest trees seemed but as Pismires to them, and all objects appearing to them but as Atomes, they won∣der that the stars seemed no greater. The desire of glory made them overcome all difficulties, their courage was inflamed by their passi∣on for purchasing esteem, and the death of their companions that fell into precipices, could not asswage their ambition. Heaven g 1.123 did compassionate their pain; to stop the course of so unprofitable a la∣bour it put confusion into their mouths; and to divide their under∣wanding, divided their language, every wondered that he had for∣got his native tongue, and learnt another in an instant; the brother could not believe that his brother could not understand him, the fa∣ther thought it strange that his son could not conceive what he meant and wives were much astonished to see their husbands change their language not having changed their countrey. So strange an accident put an end to so great a work, and parted those by force who out of vain glory had undertaken it, the people that understood one ano∣ther retired into the same countreys; that which had divided them from others, united them together, and they imagined that 'twas the will of heaven, they should live under the same climate, since it had given them the same language.

Men were not made the wiser by this memorable example; there were some, who joyning industry to vain glory endevoured to imi∣tate the works of God, and to make in this lower world an Epitome of the Universe. This was a more refined pride, and seemed more

praise-worthy then the other since 'twas more ingenious: for Princes who built Tombs or Palaces had no hand in the work more then the bare desire; the Architectours conceived the design, the earth fur∣nished the materials, the people were at the expense, and the han∣dycrafts men contributed their labour: thus was the glory divi∣ded, and those bare away the most, who certeinly deserved the least.

But when industry joyned with vain glory, honour was no more divided; he who laid the project employed no other hands, then his own to effect the work. Thus did ingenious Archimedes enclose whole Nature h 1.124 in a vessel of Chrystall; he observed all the moti∣ons of the heavens in a brittle Globe, and if he could not infuse in∣fluences into the stars which he there engraved, he gave them at least light and beauty: whosoever was in the midst of this in-animated Sphere saw the Sun arise above his head, and the stars set under∣neath his feet; this transparent globe did at one and the same time shew all the secrets of Nature, and looking upwards or downwards one might there observe all the rarities of both the Hemispheres. A certein Poet, admiring the excellency of this work, i 1.125 thought he could cause Jealousie in his Iupiter, and in this belief made it be told him in his language, that the hand of a man had equal'd Gods hand: and that if it had as much strength as it had compendious adresse, it might have formed a second Uuiverse,

But notwithstanding what the Poets say, this Master-piece of workmanship did not survive it's author, the same age saw the begin∣ning and end thereof, the ransacking of a Town put a period to this little world, when Siracusa was taken by the Romanes, Archimedes was there slain, and his work destroyed. Those proud Mausolaea which promised immortality to their builders, are reduced to ashes as well as the bodies which they did inclose, we do not know the places where their foundations were laid, and of all the marble and porphiry which went to their composure, nothing but smoak and dust remains, of all the stately buildings which vanity hath produ∣ced, none but the Pyramides of Egypt have triumphed over time. Those mighty masses of stone remain yet intire, the Theaters, the Amphitheaters of Rome, which were built so many ages after these miracles of Memphis, are now nothing but ruines, regarded for their

Antiquity, those proud portals and stately Theaters, for which Romes greatnesse, after she hath been so oft demolisht, is still admi∣ted, are onely receptacles for owles, and nests for serpents. And those Temples, wherein heretofore so many Gods were lodged, serve now onely to raise Romes wals. But the Pyramides of Egypt stand yet firm upon their foundations; Thunder bears respect unto them, the injuries of time spares them, and as if Nature knew that they were built by the labour of Gods people, that they are the work∣manship of their hands, and that the Coement k 1.126 which fastens the stones together was steeped in their tears, she preserves this work as a mark of their servitude, and as an eternall monument of their glo∣rious deliverance. None of the other buildings, could defend them∣selves against the elements; if the sword have-spared them, fire hath consumed them, if water have not overthrown their founda∣tions, it hath undermined their tops; and if rust have not spoyled them, Time which consumes all things hath devoured them. It is not fitting that the workmanship of men should be more lasting then that of God, l 1.127 since Nature perisheth in any one of her parts, that she preserves not her productions but by their losse, there is no reason why edifices should be eternall, since the world for being in∣fected with sin was drowned by an universall deluge, and shall be consumed by a generall fire, 'tis not fit that our Palaces which are but the inventions of pleasure or vanity, should be of a bettercon∣dition, and man must learn by the ruine of his workmanships, that guilty hands can make nothing which deserves not to be de∣stroyed either by sword or fire.

The tenth Discourse.

That the greatest part of our pestimes are occasions of sin.

THough man had remained in the state of innocency, he would have stood in need of some diversion or pastime, his constitution which placeth him beneath that of Angels, re∣quires that his labours should be intermitted by some honest recrea∣tion,

and his mixture of soul and body doth not permit him to be always busied. Nature, which serves him for a rule endev••s some relaxation in her labours: l 1.128 the earth rests in the winter season, she sometimes sports her self for recreation, and amongst her serious works doth some ridiculous ones, which are her ••ions or ex∣travagancies. The sea is calm after a storm, the winds w•• with she was agitated leave her in quiet, and those spirits which appear enemies to rest, are lulled asleep in the bowels of the earth.

Though labour be naturall to man it needs relaxation, his spirit is too weak to be always busied; it is not of the nature of rivers, or of the heavens which find their rest in motion, as sleep repairs the bodies strength, so doth recreation repair the like of the soul, and change of exercise is to her a kind of recreation. But in the state of innocency, man found his delight in his duty, he unwearied himself in considering Gods wonderfull works, and natures beauties, which had charms enough to recreate him, m 1.129 had not power enough to se∣duce or corrupt him; whilst he saw the stars he adored him who had given them their light and influences: whilest he beheld the flowers he admired him who had made them so beautifull and deli∣cate, whilst he considered the earths fertility and the diversity of her productions, hee bethought himselfe how so many miracles cost God onely the speaking of a word, and how the nothing out of which they were produced did contribute nothing unto them but a blind obedience. When he heard the comfort of birds or the noyse of the waters he rowsed up his soul to his Creator, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he had understood the language of those creatures, he sung his prayses who had made them speak. In fine, man was religious in all his re∣creations, whilst he did divert himself, he did actions of piety; and Nature being mingled with Grace, whilst he did unbend his cogi∣tations he did some homage to his God. But when sin had once cor∣rupted his inclinations, he served his recreation from his duty, and took delight in nothing but offence.

All the remedies which we bring to this disorder have not yet been able to reform it: our most harmlesse recreations may become faulty, and we find by experience that whilst we think to divert our mind we ingage it in the creature, n 1.130 which doth estrange it from the Creator. Our disports have no longer either measure or bounds, they are either uselesse or dangerous, if there be no excesse in them,

there is vanity; if they do not ravish our hearts, they steal away our time; and if they do not altogether thwart Gods will, they hinder us from following it.

There are some men whose eyes are only busied in beholding the beauty of Tulips; they make an Art of this pleasure, and a serious occupation of this uselesse recreation; they traffique in onions, as Merchants do in stuffs: The price of these flowers is inhanced by their fantasticalnesse; an extravagancy in nature passeth with them for a miracle; they therein admire the mixture of colours, o 1.131 they are not therein pleased with purity, and to use Tertullians words, if they meet with no adultery, or incest there, they are not pleased. their passion hath found out a new language to expresse the diffe∣rence of Tulips: 'tis a piece of incongruity to use an ordinary term; a man must speak according to the rules of Art if he will be ad∣mitted into their Academy. All the secrets of husbandry are re∣quisite to cultivate these flowers, which do satisfie but one of our senses; they must be taken out of the earth, and put in again in their due seasons; and a man must labour all the whole year to reap some delight in the Spring.

The love of painting is yet of lesse ••e then is that of flowers; for let painters do what they can they cannot equall nature: their pieces will never be so well finished as are her productions, p 1.132 nor can their pensils how excellent Masters soever they be represent the roses and lillies, which grow in the fields; yet we see men of good condition who fill their Closets with pictures, who extract vanity from whence the painters have extracted profit; who spend their lives in observing the Pieces made by Bassa••, or Caravaggio, who study to know a copy from an originall, and who spend a good part of their estate in buying of pictures, q 1.133 which do not content their eyes, till they have wounded their imaginations. This exer∣cise is termed an honest recreation; men never blame themselves for having spent all their time, their esta••, and their affection in this uselesse occupation, nor do they think themselves too blame though they make an Idoll of the handy work of a Carver, or Painter.

Though clocks are usefull, and that the houres which they sh••w forth, put us in mind of the shortnesse of our life, yet cannot I approve of too inordinate affection thereunto. For what likelihood is there that our watches should measure our time, of which we are

so prodigall? r 1.134 That we should take so much pain to make them go aright, and that we should not labour to accord our passions? that we should be carefull to govern them by the Sun, and should never think of governing our selves by Jesus Christ? yet this is one of the pastimes of the age; where we may see men who carry the rule of their life in their pockets, who accommodate them∣selves unto their watches, who think not that they go astray, be∣cause they measure their moments, and enjoyning themselves to as much pain as did Charls the Fift, think there goes no lesse art to make many watches go just together, then to make divers people joyn in the same designe.

Learned men despise these recreations, and yet take o∣thers which bear not more reason with them: the knowledge of Medals which was formerly only an help to History, is now the occupation of Criticks. They neglect the lives of Princes, to study their pictures, they ground their science upon the Caprichio of an Ingraver; such monies as were currant in the reign of the Empe∣rours, are placed in the best parts of their Cabinets. s 1.135 They treasure up brasse and latten, out of a foolish curiosity, they change weighty gold for rusty medals, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 if antiquity set a valuation upon all things, they more esteem the picture of Antonius, or Marcus Aure∣lius, upon copper, then that of Henry the Great, or Lewis the Just upon gold; they vex themselves about worn out characters, they ask advice of all Authours, to explain these Enigmaes, and as if they were ingenious to their prejudice, they seek in sepulchres the cause of their punishments. These Sanctuaries of the dead to which avarice bears respect, have not been able to defend them∣selves against these men, who do violate religion, to content curio∣sity. Nature complains of their searches, and all the World wonders that the pictures of the dead which have nothing of plea∣sing in them can serve for a diversion to the living.

But if all these pastimes be the effects of sin, it must be confest that gaming is one of the most unjust and sinfull ones; it is autho∣rized by custome, and because 'tis common, 'tis thought to be harmelesse; halfe the world have no other imployment but this exercise. t 1.136 'Tis is the trade of all such as have no trade, and the occupation of all uselesse men: 'tis the ruine of the greatest fami∣lies, and it alone sends more poor to the Hospitall, then hunting,

love, and war do, joyned altogether; yet hath it so powerfull Charms as it makes it selfe be beloved of all those that it disobli∣geth; it's Martyrs are so faithfull to it as when they have no more to lose, they notwithstanding languish after it; it's inconstancy makes them love it, they hope that after having dealt ill with them, it will make them amends; and being far from imitating those dis∣creet lovers, who cease to pursue an ungratefull Mistresse, who paies their service with dis-respect, they endeavour to overcome it's in∣constancy by their fidelity, when this Tyrant hath made himselfe master of their affection, 'tis almost impossible to get them out of his clutches; the losse of their estate sets them not at liberty, after having lost wherewithall to play, they continue to love it; and the will growing obdurate against what resists it, they never have so great a passion for this pastime, x 1.137 as when they are not in a conditi∣on of taking it. Though I hope not to cure an evill which all the world holds incurable; I will not forbear to make the nature of it known, to the end those who are not yet infected therewithall, may defend themselves against it, and that growing weary by other mens harms, they may fortunately eschew the danger.

It's first disorder y 1.138 is that it awakens all the passions which dis∣compose the heart of man, it excites all those motions which mo∣lest his reason, it raiseth those overflowings which morall philoso∣phy endevours to calme, it irritates such Tempests as the other stri∣veth to allay, & causeth more storms in a moment, then all philoso∣phy can quiet in age. Avarice waites close upon it; & let such hand∣some gamesters say, what they please, who do but bite upon the bri∣dle, when they loose; and who bear their bad fortune with a good grace, all men play to win. This exercise is a kind of Traffique: 'tis a generall usury wherein every one glories; 'tis their clearest in∣comb, who can joyn sleight of hand to good fortune, and who can lead fortune as they list. They are lesse egg'd on by pleasure, then by profit; and if they will acknowledge their owne weaknesse, they must confesse, that those who are most liberall, are avaritious at play.

Anger governs there yet more absolutely then doth avarice; a man cannot have ill luck without some commotion, z 1.139 his pulse beats high, when the dice do not favour him; an unlooked for chance puts him in disorder; if his ill luck prove constant, his fury turns to impiety, and after having imprecated the gain, he vomits

forth blasphemies against heaven. Ambition takes her place between avarice and anger; for though play makes all men equall, though the freedom of play forbids ceremony, though it be lawfull in play for every man to defend his own liberty, and that therein the ser∣vant may argue with his Master, yet vain-glory hath a share there∣in; men think winning an advantage, and that he that wins is ei∣ther more dexterous, or more fortunate; and as if fortune ought to be more just in play, than in battels, men complain that she fa∣vours the weakest, or the worst side.

In fine, sorrow succeeds all other passions in this exercise, for if the losse be great, 'tis always accompanied with sorrow. Shame and repentance set on those that loose, a 1.140 the one siezeth on the heart, the other on their countenance; they are displeased with all things: not knowing to whom to break themselves, they betake themselves to every body; and are bound to confesse, that contra∣ry to their intention they finde pain and repentance, where they sought for pleasure and recreation. The second disorder of play, is, that it alienates men from their duty, and hinders them from doing what they ought, or from attending their affairs. All world∣ly things are so linkt together as an evill seldome comes alone; one mis-fortune always produceth another, and it is almost impossible, that a malady doth not oft-times become a contagion. Great winds cause great droughts, and whil'st the aire is agitated with these ex∣halations, the earth is no•• watered with rain. Droughts cause dearths, and all the husbandmans labour cannot defend us from fa∣mine. Dearths cause the plague; for when necessity makes all things food, and that without considering what is good, or what is bad, men fall to whatsoever they meet withall; mens temper must be corrupted, and the body which is nourished with unwholesome food, must needs gather ill humours. Thus in a Kingdom, one dis∣order is always cause of another. b 1.141 Indulgency of Princes leaves faults unpunished, impunity causeth licentiousnesse; licentious∣nesse ushers in murder, and murder causeth war in the midst of peace. Particular families being little States, and Oeconomy being the picture of policy, one disorder never happens there alone; the Masters fault is always followed by the confusion of all the Dome∣stiques. Excesse in gaming is an infallible proofe of this truth, for those who passionately love this pastime, give over the thought of businesse, neglect the government of their house, lose all their

relations of Father, Master, or husband, and by one and the same fault, injure their children, wives, and servants. They lose all they have, in a short time, they morgage their lands, contract debts, and are constrained to keep out of company because they cannot appear abroad in their former gallantry. If the wives will not shut them∣selves up with their husbands, they must make friends, and must in∣gage their conscience, and betray their honour to continue their or∣dinary expence and porte.

But if this misfortune which is but too ordinary, should not happen, Gamesters must confesse, that this exercise bereaves them of all their time, which is a disorder no lesse considerable then all the rest. For Time c 1.142 is the most pretious thing that is, our salvation depends up∣on the moments thereof; eternitie must be his reward or punishment, and we shall be happy or miserable according to the good or bad use we make of time, which is the measure of merit, the rule of good or bad actions, and these daies which we are so prodigall of, are the bounds which divine Justice hath prescribed to our labours. When the soul forgoes the body, and passeth from time to eternity, 'tis no more in her power to acquire vertue, or ••hstand vice, she carries nothing into the other world but what she hath gathered here: good desires are of no advantage to her, if they have not bin fore-gone by good effects; nor can all the ages to come profit her, if she have not imploy'd past moments wel. Yet d 1.143 experience teacheth us, that game∣sters never count their years; a man must be very eloquēt to perswade them that hours are more precious then pistols, and that it is easier to pay their debts then to recover the weeks which they have lost. Time advanceth always and never returns, it is as hard to recall time past as to stop the present. When the Sun (which is the rule of times motions) stood still in the midst of his career, to obey a mans word, the present time ceased not to roul on, though it had lost it's guide, when the same constellation returned towards the east. to assure a great Prince that his death was deferred, the time past did not re∣treat back with it, and divine Providence which changed the course of the Sun, would not alter the nature of time. Yet e 1.144 all such as play are prodigall thereof, they are shamefully profuse of a thing, the sparing whereof is honourable; they think they give their friends nothing when they bestow but whole days upon them, and because the losse thereof is common they think it not considerable: their

life is iesse deer unto them then their pleasure, and they prove that passion blinds them since under pretence of pastime these shorten their life, and hasten their death.

But though they be guilty of so many faults, they still alledge vain excuses, and use false reason to defend their bad cause, they say that a man cannot be allways busied, that the weaknesse of his spirit and the misery of his condition considered, f 1.145 recreation is requisite for him. I confesse that this excuse hath some colour of truth, and that men who are most serious need some relaxations in their busi∣nesses; but they must not make a trade of their recreation, nor must they contrary to the laws of Nature, imploy those hours in pleasure, which are destined for labour: as those men are to be blamed who turn their Physick into food, and who to purge away some ill hu∣mours, forego their usuall meat, and take nothing but medicines. So are they likewise, who leave serious exercises to use such onely as are of no use, and who think they live in a world, onely to please themselves, and not to take pains.

Some others say, that it is better to play, then to deprave, that lesse evill is committed in Academies then in company keeping; and that those who are busied about play, trouble themselves not with their neighbours faults. That in this corrupted age, wherein the se∣verest vertue becomes the subject of Calumny, it were to be wished, that all the world would be silent, that men were dumb, and wo∣men deaf, to the end that detraction and idle talk were banisht from off the earth. That gaming is fortunate in producingthese two effects, and that it doth so powerfully possesse those who practise it, that they have no use of their tongue to talk idlely or deprave, nor yet of their ears, to listen to such things. That of two necessary evils a man must shun the most dangerous, and that recreation be it of never so little use, will always be innocent enough, if it can hinder revile and unchastity. g 1.146 They must be but weak men that are satisfied with this bad excuse. For 'tis not permitted in our religion to cure one evil by another. Morall Philosophy and Physick do differ in their cures, the latter hurts to heal, and imploys instruments and fire to dry up an Ulcer, but the other doth not allow that a man commit one fault to forego another, and knowing them all to be averse to vertue, whose party she mainteins, she equally condemns them. Saint Paul never advised us to use play so to keep men from slande∣ring,

and this great Apostle who loved chastity so well, never thought that an excesse in recreation might serve him for an excuse.

Though Idlenesse do cause love, all exercises do not extinguish it; this passion hath her imployments as well as others; after having cōsumed it self away in sighs, it is wel pleased to take some recreation, & of as many pastimes as it chuseth, there are not many wherein it de∣lighteth more then in play, it makes use as of an occasion thereof to see & entertain what it loveth. It useth such freedom as that pastime affordeth it. It teacheth slaves to act two parts at once, and to ha∣zard their money and their liberty upon the same chance or card, that Poet who was so justly banisht to Pontus Euximus for h 1.147 having taught the Romane Ladies how to make love, recommends play unto them, as a pastime which serves to their design: he will have all maidens know how to play, and that by a double traffick, they win their Lovers hearts and money. The Privatives which accompa∣ny this pastime, are fitter to kindle flames of love then to extinguish them. This passion is entertained by the presence of such objects as do arise, she expresseth her self by looks and sighs, she furnisheth Lovers with a thousand ways to seduce those who will listen to them, growing learned in so good a school, they quit their losses, and oft-time of servants become Masters. But if all these sufficient reasons cannot disabuse those women who love play, and if they think it be a buckler for their chastity, we wil give them leave to play, provided they will give us leave to believe that this exercise is a cure for their incontinency, that the use thereof is permitted them onely to free them from love, and that knowing their frailty, they are al∣lowed this pastime to secure their reputation, which would be in hazard of shipwrack, if they should be idle or solitary.

Yet if they will listen to our religion, this wise tutouresse wil i 1.148 fur∣nish them with better means how to assist chastity, when it is assail∣ed. Her enemy dares not pursue her in prison, those places of dread infuse horrour into him, and being guilty, she fears all places where guilty people are punished; she apprehends hospitals, and her delicate disposition cannot endure those houses where the eyes see nothing but objects of pitty, where the eares hear nothing but complaints, where the nose smels nothing but evill odours, and where all the senses find nothing but subjects of mortification. Penance is a bet∣ter cure for love then play, and if women who seek to succour their

weaknesse by this diversion, had kept their bodies under by fasting and penance, they would confesse that suffering is a friend to cha∣stity; and that the fire which doth consume them, is the just punish∣ment of their infamous delights.

The earth is an abode of penance; wee should not seek for pa∣stimes since we were driven out of paradise: guilty men dream of nothing but death after once they are condemned. The sorrow for their fault, and the apprehension of their punishment will k 1.149 not per∣mit them to take any pastime: he would redouble their pain, who should propose pastimes unto them, the most ingenious Tyrants ne∣ver inhibited complaints to such as were to be punished. Yet it seems the Devil deals so rigorously with us, as he bindes us to recreate our selves after condemnation, and engageth us in debaucheries, to take from us the occasion of bewailing our sins. If we take any recreation, let us not forget our misfortune, let us mingle tears with our de∣lights, let us take our pastimes as sick men take potions, let necessi∣ty which ought to be the rule thereof, be our excuse; and let us not allow our selves longer relaxation, then is necessary to support the miseries of our life. Let us wish for that glorious condition where Saints find their recreation in their duties, where the same object which doth ravish them, doth recreate them, and where by an ad∣mirable encounter, all the faculties of the soul are always imployed, yet are never weary nor weakened.

Notes

• a 1.1

  Non est in carendo difficul∣tas nisi cum fuerit in ha∣bendo cupiditas Aug. Confess.
• b 1.2

  Quidquid il∣l••s co••gerat non finis erit cupi∣ditatis, sed gradus. Senec.
• c 1.3

  Attonitus novitate mali, div••sque miser∣que e••gere ap∣tat opes: & quas modo vo∣ve••at odit. O∣vid. Metam. lib. 11.
• d 1.4

  Cupiditati nihil satis est, naturae satis est etiam parum. Senec. ad Helviam c. 11.
• e 1.5

  Propter pec∣cata habitan∣tium civitatem modicum Deu•• ••uerat iratus. 2 Machab. 5.
• f 1.6

  Plera{que} gaudi•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Iustiti•• ev∣à Deo non su••t gaudia & sepe initiasunt fu∣tu••a 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Sen. Epist. 53.
• g 1.7

  Diuturnis honorib•• dete∣riores fiunt ho∣mines, & ferre secundam for∣tunam non om∣nes possunt. A∣ristot. lib. 5. de Republ. cap. 8.
• h 1.8

  Plerique eo magis contra Deum super bi∣unt quo ab ejus largitate & contra meritum ditantur & qui provo••ari bonis ad m••iora de∣buerunt donis pe••ores fiunt. Gregor. in Moral.
• i 1.9

  Imitatrix bo∣ni voluptas est, malorum mat••r omnium cujus blanditiis ••or∣rumpuntur quae naturá bona sunt. Cic. de legibus.
• k 1.10

  Nos à ven∣tur•• torquemur & 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 bonano∣stra nobis no∣cent, timoris tormentum me∣moria reducit, providentia an∣ticip••. nemo tantum prae∣sentibus miser est. Senec. E∣pist. 13.
• l 1.11

  Plus in metu∣••ds est mali, quam in co ipso quod timetur. Cicer.
• m 1.12

  O mors usur∣paris ad laetiti∣am mater moe∣roris, usurparis ad gloriam glo∣ri•• inimica, u∣surparis ad ot∣tr••um regni porta ••ni. B. in Cant c. Serm. 26.
• m 1.13

  Iejunium mors culpae re∣medium salutis, radix gratiae fundamentum est castitatis. Ambros. de Jejunio.
• o 1.14

  Gloria pro∣pria mortuorum possessio.
• p 1.15

  Nulla volup∣tas humana vi∣detur ad divi∣nam proprius a••edre quam e•• delectatio quae percipitur ex ••oribus. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• q 1.16

  Aliquando eligit fama sed saepius errat. Tacit. in vita Agricol.
• r 1.17

  Nulli praeclu∣sa virtus est, o∣mnibus patet, o∣mnes admittit, omnes invitat ingenuos ••ber∣tinos, servos Reges & exu∣les: non eligit domum nec censum nudo homine contenta est. Lib. 3. de B••nefic. cap. 18
• s 1.18

  Prosparum ac foelix scelus virtus vocatur. Senec.
• t 1.19

  Populus stul∣tus honores sae∣pe dat indignis & fama servit ineptus, dum stupet in titul•• & in imagini. bus. Horat.
• u 1.20

  Non est quod credas quem∣quam fieri alie∣na foelicitate in∣foelicem. Senec. Epist, 94.
• x 1.21

  Receptus in coelum Romu∣lus creditur, n•• paricidium si∣ne praemio re∣linqueretur. August.
• y 1.22

  Honor est in corum potius potestate qui colunt quom qui coluntur. Aristot. Ethic. lib. 1. cap. 5.
• z 1.23

  Intervallo opus est, ut quis credatur Deus, semperque h••nc gratiam magnis viris posteri reddunt. Curt. lib. 8.
• a 1.24

  Laeudantur ubi non sunt cruciantur ubi sunt. Hieronym
• b 1.25

  Silui•• omnis t••ra in conspe∣ctu•• us. 1 Math. 1.
• c 1.26

  Cùm Deus cō∣rouat merita nostra, coronat dona sua. Aug.
• d 1.27

  Tunc erit laus unicuique à Deo.
• d 1.28

  Quaerit adi∣pisc•• umbram veri re••ni cum ab illo deciderit in quo soli Deo inferior omni∣bus dominaba∣tur. Aug. lib. d: verâ Relig.
• e 1.29

  Quid facies daemones colen∣do nisi ut offen∣das illum quo offenso in illo∣rum potestatem daberis? & qui nihil tihi possent facere illo pla∣cato, facient quidquid vol••t illo irato. Aug. in Psal. 25.
• f 1.30

  Iniquum erat ut Diabolus ho∣mini quem coe∣perat xon domi∣naretur. Aug. l. 3. de lib arbit. cap. 10.
• g 1.31

  Magna fortu∣na magna ser∣vitus. Senec.
• h 1.32

  Amor sive di∣vinus, sive hu∣manus ••uxta sententiam Ari∣st••elis est quid ni••io simile.
• i 1.33

  Dignitas for∣mae gravior possidentibus, & appetentibus exitiosa, exposi∣ta tentationibus, & circumdata scandalis. Tert.
• k 1.34

  Iustitia ex∣hibet Deum Pa∣trem & Domi∣num: Patrem potestate blan∣da, Dominum severa, Patrem diligendum piè, Dominum ti∣mendum neces∣sario. Tertul. contra Marc. lib. 2. cap. 12.
• l 1.35

  Imperium cupientibus, ni∣hil medium in∣ter summa & praecipitia. Ta∣cit. histor. lib. 5
• m 1.36

  Ne metus, poe∣nas & quidem solvet grazes, reguabit. Senec in Thebaid.
• n 1.37

  Nihilest pe∣riculosius homi∣ni iniusto quam omnia posse.
• o 1.38

  Nihil est quod ab Imperator∣bus emendari non queat, nec ullum peccatum est quod vires eorum superet, & quidquid ••mittunt, fa cere videntur. Nicetas.
• p 1.39

  Ar•• artium regereanimos hominum. Greg.
• q 1.40

  Solus Nerva duas res olim insotiabiles mis∣cuit libertatem, & Imperium. Tacit.
• r 1.41

  Omnium do∣mos illius vigi ••a defendit, o∣mnium vacatio∣nem illius occu∣patio omnium delicias illius industria ex quose regno de∣dicavit fibi eri∣puit. Senec. ad Polyb. cap. 26.
• s 1.42

  Non bene imperat nisi qui paruerit imperio. Senec. 2. de Irâ.
• t 1.43

  Multa Regi non licent quae humilli••s, & in angusto ja∣centi•• licent, magna servitus est magna for tuna Senec. ad Polyb.
• u 1.44

  Neque cum Diis, neque cum Regibus ob eo∣rum excellenti∣am amicitia contrabi potest. Arist. 1. Polit.
• x 1.45

  Net regna socium ferre nec taedae sciunt. Senec.
• y 1.46

  Iusti reges quibus impera••t serviunt, neque enim dominan∣di c••piditate imperant sed officio consulen∣d••, nec ••i∣pandi superbia sed providendi misericordi. i. Aug. lib. 19. de civit. c. 14.
• z 1.47

  Belli prima orizo adeo peca∣tum est ut nihil al••ud innocent••a nisi pax summa intelligatur.
• a 1.48

  Omnis crea∣tura pugnavit contra insensa∣tos.
• b 1.49

  Antiquum bellum venatio licitum, quia necessarium.
• c 1.50

  Iustum bel∣lum quibus ne∣cessarium, pia arma quibus nulla nisi in ar∣mis spes relin quitur. Livius.
• d 1.51

  Tunc solum utile est concur∣rere ad arma, cum locum a∣pud hostem in∣venire non po∣test justitia. Cassiodo••. lib. 3 Epist. 1
• e 1.52

  Arma non servant modum nec temperari facile nec repri∣mi potest stricti ensis ira: bella delectit cruror. in Hercul fu∣rent.
• f 1.53

  Gens cum gente collidi∣tur, regnum cum regno, Christianus cum Christiano, & sunt qui applau∣dant, qui ve∣hant laudibus, qui que princi∣pes ultro furen∣tes insiigent. Erasm.
• g 1.54

  Manet alta mente repostum judicium Pari∣dio: spretaeque injuris formae. Virgil.
• h 1.55

  In landibus Caesaris posuit Sallustius quod sibi magnum im∣perium exerci∣tum, bellum no∣vum exoptabat ubi virtus eni∣tescere potest ut miseras ge••es in bellum exci∣taret. Aug. lib. de Civit. c. 12.
• i 1.56

  Summum Bruto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ci∣vilia bella fate∣mur. Lucan.
• k 1.57

  Non suriis post fata mo∣dum, flammas{que} rebelles, seditio∣ne rogi. Stat. Thebaid. lib. 1.
• l 1.58

  Homo occidi∣tur in hominis voluptatem, & ut quis possit perimere usus est. Quid po∣test inhumanius dici' disciplina est ut quis peri∣mere possit, & gloria est quod peremit. Cypri∣an. ad Donat.
• m 1.59

  Mundus est magna & vere respublica qua Dii atque ho∣mines continen∣tur; in qua non ad hunc angu∣lum respicimus aut ad illum, sed terminos ci∣vitatis nostrae cum sole meti∣mur. Senec. de otio sapient.
• n 1.60

  Billum pium quibus necessa∣rium. Tacit.
• o 1.61

  Madet orbis mutuo sangui∣ne, & homici∣dium cum ad∣mittunt sing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 crimen est, vir∣••s vocatur cum ••blice geritur: impunitatem sceleribus ac∣quirit non inno∣centiae ratio sed saevitiae magni∣tudo. Cyprian. ad Donat.
• p 1.62

  Multis paras∣se divitias non finis miseria∣rum suit sed mutati••. Non hoc miror non est enim in rebus vitium sed in ipso animo. Illud quod pauperta∣tem gravem se∣cerot & divi∣tias graves fe∣cit. Senec. Epist. 17.
• q 1.63

  Speciosa sup∣plicia. Cyprian.
• r 1.64

  Desunt inopiae multa, avaritiae omnia. Senec.
• * 1.65

  〈1 line〉〈1 line〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nocens 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••erro{que} ••entius au∣•• prodicrat. OVid. Meta. 1.
• t 1.66

  Aurum sic Iudaicum po∣pulum suo cap∣tivavit aspectu ut hoc esse Deum crederent: Au¦rum cum mores hominum per∣dit, perdit & naturam. Chry∣solog. Serm. 29.
• u 1.67

  Vivitur ex rapto non hospes ab hospite tu∣tus: Imminet exitio vir con∣jugis, illa mari∣ti, filius ante diem patrios in∣quirit in annos, victa jacet pie∣tas. Ovid. Me∣tamorph. 1.
• x 1.68

  Inflant ani∣mos divitiae, superbiam pari∣unt, invidiam contrabunt, & eo us{que} mentem alienant ut fa∣ma pecuniae e∣tiam nocitur•• nos delectet. Sen. Epist. 87.
• y 1.69

  T••eo totius vitae necessita∣tes sorro & aeri inni•• as, cum & divitia de me∣tull is effodi••n∣dae sine ••ri o∣perario rigore non possunt. Tertul. de ha∣bitu mulieb.
• z 1.70

  Terra scili∣cet plane glorio∣fior nomen ter∣r•• in igne reli∣quit, atque ex∣inde de tormen∣tis in 〈◊〉〈◊〉, de suppliciis in delicias, de ignomini is in honores, me∣talli refuga mu∣tatur. Tertul. de habitu mul.
• a 1.71

  Apud barba∣ros quosdam quia ver••acu∣lum est aurum & copi••sum, au∣ro vinctos in er∣gastulis habent, & divit•• malos ••trant, tanto locupletiores) quanto nocenti∣ores. Aliquando re ver â inven∣tum est, quomo∣do aurum non ametur. Tert. de habit. mulie.
• b 1.72

  Negotiatio est a liquid amitte∣re, ut majora lucreris. Ter∣tul. ad martyr.
• c 1.73

  Duas civita∣tes fecerunt duo amores: Hieru∣salem facit amor Dei, Babyloniam amor saeculi. Interroget igi∣tur se unusquis∣que quid amet & inveniet ubi fit civis. Aug. in Psal. 64.
• d 1.74

  Paupertatem∣que serenda effe∣cere levem nec iniqu•• mente serendam. Ovid
• e 1.75

  Summa-opes, inopia desiderto∣rum. Senec. Nihil interest an multum ba∣be as an nihil concupiscas. Ident.
• f 1.76

  Tantam para∣turam materia∣rum primum regendo homini qua necess••as praecessit, dehinc & ornando, qua ambitio succes∣sit varias indu∣mentorum for∣mas promulga∣vere. Tertul. de pallio.
• g 1.77

  Pater paupe∣rum Deus pas∣sim in Scriptu∣ris appellatur.
• h 1.78

  Nascitur in praesepio, famet in deserto, pau∣peribus ••r, afinà 〈◊〉〈◊〉 n•• in cr•• mori••r. Chry∣sost. 5.
• * 1.79

  i Esurivi & non dedistis mihi manducare; siti∣vi, & non dedi∣stis mih ibibere. Luc.
• k 1.80

  P•• h••m exp••∣vit 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Pauperis impe∣rium Natura non pertulit. Iu∣ste namque se∣quebatur ut sig∣na largiretur qui opes conten∣ps••rat. Aug. de verbis Aposto••i Serm. 26.
• l 1.81

  Quid sibi vult quod ••adem promissio facta est pauperibus & Martyribus nisi quia vere ••artyrii genus est paupertas voluntaria. Bern. Se••m. 1. de omnibus sanctis.
• m 1.82

  Si vis vaca∣re animo aut pauper fit 〈◊〉〈◊〉, aut pauperi ••lis. Senec. Epist. 17.
• n 1.83

  Dominus de∣dit Dominus ab∣stulit fit nome•• Domini benedi∣ctum. Job 1. 4.
• o 1.84

  Illa est p•• peccati justissi∣ma, ut unus∣quisque illud quo bene uti ••o∣luit, amittat. Aug lib. 3. de lib. arbit.
• p 1.85

  Nullarum foeminarum ferè pretiofior cultus quam quarum pudor vilis est. Cyprian. de ha∣bit. virgin.
• q 1.86

  Fecit quoque Dominus Deus Adae & uxori•• ejus tunicas pel∣liceas, & induit eos. Genes. 3.
• r 1.87

  Tegendo ho∣mini necessitas praecessit, dehinc ornando ambi∣tio successit. Tertul. de pal∣lio. cap. 4.
• s 1.88

  Nullum est e∣lementum quod homini aliquod genus mortis non minetur.
• t 1.89

  Nihil tam ca∣pax sortuito∣rum quam ma∣re. Tacit.
• u 1.90

  Ignis an ho∣mini in hac vita perniciosior an utilior jure du∣bitari potest.
• x 1.91

  O•• ista or∣namenta dam∣nati & mortui hominis impedi∣menta sunt qua∣si ad pomp••m funeris constitu∣ta. Tertul. de habit. mulieb.
• y 1.92

  In sordib•• agebat Eva, ip∣sam se circum∣ferens lugen∣tem, & poeni∣tentem, ignomi∣niam primi de∣licti, & invidi∣am perditionis humana omni satisfactionis habitu expia∣bat. Tertul. de habit. mul.
• z 1.93

  Sed lapillos qui cum auro superbiam jun∣gunt quid aliud interpreter quam terra mi∣nuta••ia: nec tamen aut fun∣damentis de∣mandandis aut pa••ietibus moli∣endis aut sasti∣giis sustinendis necessaria. Ter∣tul. de habit. mulieb.
• a 1.94

  In homine la••dandum quod ipsius est vestem formo∣sam habet & domum pu••∣cbram nihil ho∣rum in ip••o est sed circa ipsum lauda in ipso, quod n••c eripi nec dari potest. Sen Epist. 41.
• b 1.95

  Daemones in∣strumentum i∣stud muliebris gloriae contule∣runt, laminas la∣pillorum quibus monilia varian∣tur, & ••rculos ex auro quibus brachia arctan∣tu••, & medica∣menta ex fuco quibus lanae co∣••orantur. Ter∣tul. de ••abit. mulieb.
• c 1.96

  Quod pro so∣ld inani gloria vestimentum pretiosius quoe∣ritur, res ipsa t statur, quia nemo vult ibi pretiosis vesti∣bus indui, ubi ab aliis non po∣terit videri. Greg. Mag. in Homil.
• d 1.97

  Vestium cul∣tus aut 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aut prosti∣••u ionem sapit. Tertul. de ha∣bit. mulieb.
• e 1.98

  Cur non mo∣res meos habitus pronunciat, ne spiritus purio∣res ab impuden∣tis vulnerentur Tertul. de cul∣tu foemin.
• f 1.99

  Quid est ho∣mo▪ imbecillum corpus & fragi∣le, nudum, su∣apte natura in∣erme, alienae o∣p is indigens, ad omnem fortunae contumeliam projectum, cu∣jus••ibet ferae pa∣bulum & victi∣ma. Senec. ad Marciam c. 11.
• g 1.100

  Cortex ambit arborem, pe•• tegit volucrem, la••a ovem in∣duit pilus ju∣menta & fera•• vestit: Sol•• ho∣mo inermis & nudus nascitur. Hugo.
• h 1.101

  Homo nudus in Paradis•• in∣dumentum gra∣tiae habebat quando membra ejus voluntati non repugna∣bant. Aug. lib. 14. de Civit. cap. 17.
• i 1.102

  Proinde con∣•• in obedientia carnis tanquam quam poena teste inobedientiae sua consuerunt fo•• fici. Aug. lib. 14. de Ci∣vit. c. 17.
• k 1.103

  Extitit in motu corporis quaedam impu∣dens novitas unde esset inde∣cens nuditas, & fecit att••itos reddiditq•• con∣fusos. Aug. 14. de Civit. c. 17.
• l 1.104

  Hoc re••te fa∣ctum sic appetit sciri, ut tamen erubescat vide∣ri. Aug. 14 de Civit. cap. 18.
• m 1.105

  Sic igitur quod decet ex natura, ut etiam quod pudeat, comitetur ex poena, August. 4. de Civit. c. 18.
• n 1.106

  Libido in con∣fusionis causa. Aug. 22. de Ci∣vit. cap. 17.
• o 1.107

  Cognoverunt quia nudi erant nudati scilicet ea gratia, qua fiebat ut nudi∣tas corporis, nulla eos lege peccati menti eorum repug∣nante confunde∣ret. Aug. 14. de Civit. cap. 17.
• p 1.108

  Illam perisse ego judico ••ui quidem perit•• pudor. Cur••us lib. 6.
• q 1.109

  Proque metu populum sine vi pudor ipse rege∣bat. Ovid 1. Fast.
• r 1.110

  Nullum quip∣pe vitium ita contra naturam est, ut naturae deleat etiam extrema vesti∣gia. Aug. 19 de civit. cap. 12.
• s 1.111

  Evulgatus pu∣dor non societa∣tem libidinis 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sed incitamen∣tum adfert. Ta∣cit. Annal.
• t 1.112

  Periere mores, sus, decus, pietas fides, & qui re∣dire nescit ut periit pudor. Senec. in Aga∣memnon.
• t 1.113

  Nudi erant & non confande∣bantur non quod eis sua nuditas esset incognita, sed turpis nuditas non erat quia nondum libido membra praeter arbitrium com∣movebat. Aug. 14. de civit. c. 17.
• u 1.114

  In Paradiso etiamsi non om∣••a poterat a••e peccatum, quid. quid tamen non poterat non vo∣lebat, & ideo poterat omnia quae volebat. August. 14 de 〈◊〉〈◊〉. c. 15.
• x 1.115

  A••s est ••∣minibus portus infortunii. Co∣mic.
• y 1.116

  Necessitas brevibus clau∣ditur terminis, opinio nullis. Marsil. Ficin.
• a 1.117

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 Philoso∣phia dux 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 pepe••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 di•• ho••i∣net in societa∣tem vit•• conve∣casti, 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 pri∣mo inter se do∣•• deinde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••xi∣sti. Cicer. in Tuscul.
• b 1.118

  Tum primum subtere domos, domus antra fuerunt, & densi frutices & juncta co••tico virga. Ovid. 1. Metamorph.
• c 1.119

  Ager uni Do∣mino, qui popu∣lum coepit, an∣gust•• est: & est fundus quod a∣liquando empo∣rium vocaba∣tur. Sen. Epist. 89.
• d 1.120

  Non vivunt contra naturam qui pomaria in summis turribus serunt, quorum silva in tect•• do••um ac fa∣stigiis ••tant unde ortis radi∣ci••, quo im∣probè cacumina egi••ent. Senec. Epist. 122.
• e 1.121

  Quid prosunt multa cubicula? in uno jacetis non est vestrum ubicumque non estis. Senec. E∣pist. 89.
• f 1.122

  〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 nobis tur ri•• cujus caput erit usque ad 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & feci∣•• nobis no∣men. Gen. 11.
• g 1.123

  Descendit Dominus ut vi∣deret civita•• & turrim quam aedificabant filii Adam & dixit, coeperunt hoc facere nec defi∣stent à cogitati∣onibus suis do∣nec eas opere compleant: des∣cendamus & confundamus linguas eorum. Gen. 11.
• h 1.124

  Aemula Na∣turae parva re∣perta manus.
• i 1.125

  Luditur & fragili noster in orbe labor.
• k 1.126

  Tempus edax rerum tuque in∣vidiosa vetu∣stas, Omnia de∣struitis, vitia-•• taque dentibus aevi, Paulatim lentâ consumi∣tis omnia morte. Ovid. 15. Me∣tamorph.
• l 1.127

  Quid enim immortale ma∣nus mortales fecerint? septem illa miracula & si quae his multo mirabili∣ora sequentium annorum extru∣xit ambitio ali∣quando solo ae∣quatavisentur. Sen. ad Polyb.
• l 1.128

  〈1 line〉〈1 line〉
• m 1.129

  Qu•• libet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 specu∣•• est in qu•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nobis De∣um 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• n 1.130

  Indulge goul••. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••l 〈◊〉〈◊〉, nostrum est quod 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉, & man•• & 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉. 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉.
• o 1.131

  Adulterium colorum amat. Tertul.
• p 1.132

  Pictura men∣dacium est ve∣ritatem imitans Plato.
• q 1.133

  Honestius in∣quis impensas i•• corinthia pi∣ctasque tabulas quam in vestes pretiosas eff••∣derim. Vitie∣sum est ubique quod ••ium est. Se••. de tra••quil. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 9.
• r 1.134

  Tam difficile inter Philoso∣phos quam inter horologia con∣••nit. Senec.
• s 1.135

  Vetustas quae prodidit colen∣da sunt, satis{que} habent meriti si plurimum ha∣beant temporis.
• t 1.136

  Definit esse remedio locus, ubi quae fuerant vitia mores sunt. Senec. Epist. 18.
• x 1.137

  Quod non li∣cet acrius urit.
• y 1.138

  Ibi enim vi∣tiorum omnium sed in primis irae atque avaritiae regnum est. Pe∣trarch. Dialog.
• z 1.139

  Si qui ale•• ludunt omnes perdunt, nemo unquam lude∣ret. Nunc lu∣crantur aliqui, sed lucrum illud arrha est damni. Pe∣trarch. Dialog. 27.
• a 1.140

  Taxillorum nullus eventus prosper, mali o∣mnes & miseri. Nam & qui perdit affligi∣tur, & qui vin∣cit illicitur in∣que insidias protrabitur. Pe∣trarch. Dialog. 27.
• b 1.141

  Pejus vivere sub principe qui omnia scele••a per•• quam sub eo qui om∣nia ulciscitur.
• c 1.142

  Rect•• lud•• iste latruncu••∣rum dict•• est cum rem omni∣um pretiosissi∣mam tempus sci∣licet furetur. Petrarch.
• d 1.143

  Nil pretio•• tempore & ni∣hil bodie eo vi∣lius invenitur: transivit dies salutis & nemo recogitat: Nemo sibi perire di•• nunquam redi∣turam causatur, sed sicut capil∣l•• de capi•• sic nec mom••tum peribit de com∣por••. Bernard.
• e 1.144

  Nemo se ju∣dicat quidquam debere qui tem∣p•• accepit: quùm interim hoc unum est quod ne grat•• quidem potest reddere. Senec. Epist. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• f 1.145

  Lyram & a••∣cum remittimus quo melius pos∣sint tendi, ita reereandus otio animus ut ad la∣bores reddatur vegetior. Plu. tarc. in Moral.
• g 1.146

  Non ideo vi∣tia in usum re∣cipienda sunt quia aliquando aliquid boni effecerunt. Nam & sebres quaedam genera valetudinis le∣vant, nec ideo non ex toto illis caruisse melius est. Abbominan∣d•• est genus∣remedii sanita∣tem debere mor∣bo. Sence. 1. de l. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 12.
• h 1.147

  Turpe est ne∣scire puellam ludere, ludendo saepe paratur amor. Ovid.
• i 1.148

  Hae volupta∣tes haec specta∣cula Christiano∣rum sancta, per∣petua gratuita, cursus saeculi intuere tempo∣ra labentia di∣numera, ad sig∣num Dei susci∣tare, ad tubam Angeli erigere, ad Martyrii palma•• gloriare. Tertul. de spe∣ctaculis.
• k 1.149

  Dehinc cum de originis loco ho∣mo extermina∣tur, quippe qui deliquerat, pel∣litus orbi ut me∣tallo datur. Ter tul. de pallio. cap. 3.