The holy court in five tomes, the first treating of motives which should excite men of qualitie to Christian perfection, the second of the prelate, souldier, states-man, and ladie, the third of maxims of Christianitie against prophanesse ..., the fourth containing the command of reason over the passions, the fifth now first published in English and much augemented according to the last edition of the authour containing the lives of the most famous and illustrious courtiers taken out of the Old and New Testament and other modern authours / written in French by Nicholas Caussin ; translated into English by Sr. T.H. and others.

THE RELIGIOUS MEN.

ELIJAH. ELISHA.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of the Prophet Elijah

ELIIAH THE PROPHETTT

[illustration] portrait of the Prophet Elisha

ELISHA THE PROPHETT

BEhold here an admirable Courtier that was never of the number of those flatterers of the Court that keep Truth in Iron-Chains, and give to vices the colour of virtue. Elijah was a Prophet that included the name of God and of the Sun in his Name, and who all his life-time bare the perfections of them both, as being a true child of Light, of Fire, and a visible image of the invisible beauties. As he was yet hang∣ing at his mothers breast, his father had a vision, by which it seemed to him that his son sucked fire in stead of Milk, and nourished himself with a most pure flame, which without offending him, furnished him with an Aliment as delicious as possible. So was he all his life a Man of Fire, and as it seemed that that King of E∣lements followed the course of his words and will, so he burnt also in the Interiour with that fire that kindles the heart of Angels.

He was the first of men that set up the Standart of Virginity, that consecrated it upon his body when it was unknown and despised in the World, who made an Angelicall order of the Mount Carmel to which he hath transmitted his spirit through a long and sweet posterity that hath found sources of contemplation which he derived to the world to water the barrennesse of the Earth, that hath traced the Originals of all his virtues upon that fair Carmel, upon that sacred solitude that was his first Terrestriall Paradise.

His Speech was Thunder, and his Life Lightning, his Example a School of great Actions, his Zeal a Devouring fire, his Negotiations the affairs of Eter∣nity, His Conversation an Idea of the Contemplative and Civil Life, his Translation a Miracle without peer. I leave to those that have undertaken to write his Life the retail of his Virtues and of his Miracles, staying onely upon his Actions that he did at Court, treating with the Kings Ahab, Jehu, Ahazias, and the wic∣ked Queen Jezabel.

He flourished nine hundred years before the Nati∣vity of our Lord in the Kingdome of Israel, which was then divided both by Religion and by Policy from that of Judah and Jerusalem. Ahab the son of Am∣ri, an ill Crow of an ill Egge, held then the Empire, and being married to a Sidonian the daughter of the King of Sidon which was called Jezabel, an haughty and malicious woman, he was totally governed by her, and to render himself complacent to her humours caused a Temple to be erected to the God Baal, and near that Temple a Grove to be Planted, where were committed all the Abominations ordinary to Idolaters.

Elijah that burned with the Zeal of the honour of God was touched with a most sensible grief by so scan∣dalous an action, and was stireed up by his great Ma∣ster to destroy that Mystery of Iniquity. Now, he knowing that it was hard to Preach efficaciously the Truth to Spirits froliking it in the middest of the smi∣ling prosperities of the world thought, by the order of the God of the Universe, that it was best to afflict that wicked people by a long famine and great adversities to make them reflect upon themselves, and return to the worship of the true Religion. He sware then a∣loud and publickly before Ahab for the punishment of his Idolatry, that there should not be during three years either rain or dew upon the earth, and that the Heavens should become Brasse to chastise that Age of Iron, and that he should not expect that it should be opened during that time, unlesse it were by the words of his mouth.

As soon as he had said this in the presence of wit∣nesses, he went away to the Eastern Coast; and hid himself at the Brook of Carith over against Jordan, where God nourished him by Ravens that brought

him orderly every day his portion. In the mean while the drought failed not to raise a great famine on the earth, and chiefly in the Kingdome of Israel, where one could see nothing but people crying with hunger; But the Heavens took in hand to revenge the God of Hea∣ven, and the Clouds, that are as the Breasts of the Earth, had no water for a people that abused the Elements and all the Creatures to the prejudice of the Creatour.

In the mean while, God that spares not alwayes the Lands and Goods of his Servants in a common havock, that they may not amuse themselves on the vain prosperities of the World, permitted that that Brook that furnished the Prophet with water, should grow dry as well as the rest. But as the Ocean which retires it self out of one River, swells it self in another, so this great Nursing-father of Elias that seemed to fail in matter of that little Rivulet, recompensed it by the miraculous liberality of a poor widdow. He forsook not that station that Providence had assigned him, al∣though barren, before he had orders for it from God his Master, who sent him to the Countrey of Si∣don to Sarepta, assuring him that he had already pro∣vided for his nourishment.

The Prophet arriving at the destined place, found at the City-gate a poor Widow-woman, the mother of a little sonne, and forasmuch as he knew that the Famine was great every where, that he might not a∣stonish her at first, he desired of her onely a glasse of water, which she gave him with a good will, after which, he prayes her to add to it a morsell of bread; but the good woman sware to him that she had but one handfull of Meal left in the great rigour of Fa∣mine, and that she was going to gather two or three small sticks, to make a little fire and to bake a Cake, which would be the last that she and her sonne should eat in all their lives, for after that repast they must re∣solve to dye. Yet for all this Elijah orders her to make him a little Loaf baked under the Ashes, and to think afterward upon her self and sonne, and assure her self that neither her Meal, nor Oyl should diminish any thing till such time as the Famine should be past.

It was a strong proof of the faith of this Sidonian that commanded her to take away the Bread from her self and her sonne to give it to a stranger, and quitting that which she had in her hands to rest upon uncer∣tainties: Yet she obeyed in that great necessity, yiel∣ding more to a man that she knew not, for the esteem that she had of his virtue, and the opinion which she had that he was the servant of the great God, then to her own Life. So true it is That the Considerations of Religion and of Religious persons touch even the souls of Pagans and of Infidels. So was she worthily re∣quited, having a little inexhaustible treasure in her house, which was sufficient for her Prophet, for her self and for her child; and this was a particular mercy of the Sovereign power to her, that called her to his know∣ledge by this miracle, and would not that Elijah should eat alone the bread which he multiplyed by the words of his mouth, but that he should give part of it to the poor, as our Saviour did afterward; God ordaining that good miracles should be never vain, but profita∣ble to the soul and body of men created after the image of God. While he stayed in this house, the sonne of the Dame of it dyed of a burning Feaver, whereof this poor afflicted woman laid the fault upon Elijah, saying that he had renewed the memory of her sinnes before God; and Elijah complained of God for that he had afflicted his Hostesse. But that great Master did all for his own glory, for Elijah having three times contracted himself upon the dead body of the child, breathed into him the spirit of life, and restored him to his mother.

Three years being now passed in the great angui∣shes of hunger, God commanded Elijah to present himself again to Ahab, and was resolved to sent some Rain. When the extremity of the evil was very great, and no inventions could be found to appease the scourge, Ahab a carnall man, instead of having re∣course to Prayers and Supplications to ease his subjects, thought on nothing but preserving his Horses and his Mules. He had at his service and at his Court in qua∣lity of a superintendent of his House, and of his Le∣vies, a great and good man named Abdias who mode∣rated the furies of that wicked Court, saved the Pro∣phets of God when they were persecuted, and great∣ly comforted the People. Ahab resolved to go one way, and send him the other, to seeek some herbage to feed his Cattle.

As Abdias was going along his way, he met with Elijah the Prophet, whom the King had caused to be searched after in his own territories, and through all the neighbouring Kingdoms without being ever able to learn any news of him. And therefore he was ve∣ry much amazed at that accost, and asked him if he were Elijah, whereto he answered, that he was the ve∣ry same, and that he should go and give Ahab in∣formation of his comming. The other making him a low Reverence with his face to the Earth, replyed, wherein have I ever offended you, that you should deliver me into the hands of Ahab with an intention to cause me to be put to death? For it is true that there is no Kingdome nor Nation, whither my Master hath not sent to inquire news of you, without ever getting any light of you; and now if I should go tell the King of your arrivall, and the spirit of God should carry you away (as it doth ordinarily) to transport you into some other part, I should be found a Lyar, and the King would take away my Life. What good would it do you to be the cause of my death, seeing that I have feared God even from mine infancy, and have alwayes honoured his servants so farre as to pre∣serve an hundred Prophets from the horrours of the Persecution, and nourish them secretly at mine own charge in Caves wherein they were hidden? Do not deprive your self now of a servant that is most gain∣ed unto you. The Prophet assured him, and sware to him that he would appear before Ahab.

By which I find that this Abdias was very prudent in that he would not rashly carry a news to his Ma∣ster that should be without effect; because that great ones are easily incensed, when men are so light as to promise them what they ask, and answer not their ex∣pectation; besides that if they are frustrated of their desire, they think themselves to be slighted, and are angry even at the times, and elements that do not ap∣ply themselves to their humours. When therefore he was assured by the inviolable oath of a Prophet, he went to the King, and told him that he had met with Elijah who was ready to present himself to his Ma∣jesty.

This Prince that burned with a passion to see him stayed not till he could come to see him, fearing lest he should steal away again, but went to meet him in per∣son, and having found him, asked him with disdain, whether he was not the man that embroiled all his Kingdome? The Prophet as bold as a Lyon answer∣ed him, that he had never embroiled any thing but that the trouble came from his Fathers house, and from him, for that they had forsaken God and followed Baal; and that if he would know by experience the errour wherein he was, that he should make an Assembly on Mount Carmel of all the People of Israel, and sum∣mon thither the four hundred and fifty false Prophets that are every day fed at Queen Jezabels Table,

and that there should be decided the businesse of Re∣ligion.

It was an high attempt, on which Elijah had never so much as dreamed, had he not had an expresse Re∣velation from God: for one ought not lightly to com∣mit the verity of the faith before the Court and the common people to uncertain disputes and doubtfull ac∣cidents from whence the Pagans and Hereticks may by chance draw some advantage. But the Prophet being well assured on his side; King Ahab exposed him∣self on His to cause a great revolt among his sub∣jects, and a manifest divorce with his wife. Yet God would have it so to disabuse him, and to bring him back to the true Religion.

As soon as he had then accepted the condition and commanded the assembly, there were gathered together an infinite number of people (there being nothing that so much tempts curiosity as the affairs of Religion) It was then, that one might see the assurance and vigour of a true servant of God; for he observing that the King and people who had not yet choaked all the seeds of Truth floated in divers opinions spake so∣lemnly to them, That it was no longer time to halt sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other, and that if Baal were God they ought to follow him, but if there were no other God but that of Israel, cal∣led upon from all times by their Fathers, it was he to whom they ought to adhere with an inviolable fideli∣ty. To this the assembly made no answer, there be∣ing none that was willing to set himself forward upon an uncertainty. Then Elijah taking the word again said, Behold four hundred and fifty Prophets of Baal on one side, and I a Prophet of the true God all a∣lone on the other part in this place here; To make a tryall of our Religion, let there be two Oxen given us, for each of the two parties, let them be cut in pieces, and the pieces put upon a pile of wood without put∣ing any fire to them either on one side or on the other; we will expect it from heaven, and the Sacrifice upon which God shall make a flame appear from on high to kindle it, shall carry away the testimony of the true Religion.

To this all the people answered with a confused voyce, that it was a good Proposition. The Victims were brought, sacrificed, and put upon the wood to be consumed. The Priests of Baal began first to invoke the heavenly fire, and to torment themselves with great cryes, and a long time without any effect. It was al∣ready mid-day, and nothing had appeared to their ad∣vantage, whereat being very much astonished, they drew out their Razors, and make voluntary incisions upon themselves according to their custome, thinking that a prayer was never well heard, if it were not ac∣companied with their blood, which the evil Spirit made them shed in abundance to satiate his Rage.

This nothing advanced the effect of their Suppli∣cations, which gave occasion to Elijah to mock at the vanity of their Gods, saying, that Baal, that gave no answer, was asleep, or busie, or on a journey, or per∣haps drinking at the Tavern. He remained either with security amidst so many enraged Wolves, covered with the protection of the God of Hosts, and began to prepare his Sacrifice, taking twelve stones in me∣mory of the twelve Tribes of Israel, to erect an Altar to the name of God; after which he divided the Offer∣ing into divers parts, put them all upon the pile, and that none might have any suspition that there was fire hidden in some part of them, he caused abundance of buckets of water to be thrown upon the Sacrifice, and all about it, and then began to say, Great God, God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Israel, shew now that thou art the God of this people, and that I am thy servant. I have obeyed thee in all this resting my self upon thy word; Hear me, my God, my God hear me, and let this assembly learn this day of thee, that thou art the true God, and the absolute Master of all the universe, and that it is thou that art able to reduce their hearts to the true belief.

Scarce had he ended his prayer when the Sacred fire fell down from heaven upon his Sacrifice and devour∣ed the Offering and the Altar, to the admiration of all the People; who prostrating themselves on the ground began to cry, That the God of Israel was the true God. Take then sayes he, the false Prophets of Baal, & let not one sole man of them escape us. The People convinced by the Miracle and the voyce of Elijah, without expect∣ing any other thing, fall upon those false Prophets, takes them, and cuts them all in pieces. Ahab amidst all this stood so astonished that he durst not speak one onely word, nor any way resist the Divine Com∣mand.

The Prophet bad him take his refection, and go into his Coach, for the so much desired rain was near, and having said so, retired himself to the top of the Mount Carmel, and sent his servant seven times to the sea to see whether he could discover any clouds; but he saw nothing till the seaventh time, and then he per∣ceived a little cloud that exceeded not the measure of a hand; and yet he sends him to tell Ahab that it was time to Harnesse, if he would not be overtaken with the rain. He mounted instantly into his Coach to get to the City of Jezrael, and Elijah ran before as if he had wings.

In the mean time the Heavens grew black with darknesse, the clouds collect themselves, the wind blowes and the Rain falls in abundance. Ahab failed not to relate to Jezabel all that had been done, desi∣ring to make the death of those Prophets passe for a decree of heaven, for fear lest that imperious woman should upbraid him with the softnesse of his courage. But she not moved with those great miracles of fire and water, that were reported to her, began to foam with wrath, and to swear by all her Gods that she would cause Elijahs head to be laid at her feet by the morrow that time.

The Prophet is constrained to fly suddenly to save himself not knowing to whom to trust; so that having brought with him but one young man to accompany him in the way, he quitted him, and went alone into the wildernesse, wherein having travelled a day he en∣tred into a great sadnesse, and laid him down under a Juniper-tree to repose himself, and there felt himself very weary of living any longer, and said to God with an amorous heart, My God, it is enough, take mee out of this life, I am not better then my fathers. It is a passion ordinary enough to good men to wish for death, that they may be no more obliged to see so many sinnes and miseries as are in the World, and to go to the place of rest to contemplate there the face of the living God. But this desire ought to be moderated according to the will of God.

As he was in that thought, sleep, that easily sur∣prises a melancholy spirit, and wearied with raving on its pains, slipt into his benummed members and gave some truce to his torments. But that great God that had his eyes open to the protection of so dear a per∣son dispatched to him his guardian Angell, who awa∣ked him, and shewed him near his head a cruse of wa∣ter and a loaf of bread baked under the ashes (for such are the banquets that the nursing Father of all Nature makes his Prophets not loving them for the delights of the body, but contenting himself to give them that which is necessary to life) he saw well that it was a Providence that would yet prolong his life. He

drank and ate, and at length being very heavy fell a∣sleep again. But the Angel that had undertaken the direction of his way waked him, and told him that it behooved him to rise quickly, by reason that he had yet a long way to go. Elijah obeyed, and being risen found that he had gained a merveilous strength, so that he journied fourty dayes and fourty nights being forti∣fied with that Angelicall bread, till such time as he came to the Mountain Horeb. There he retired him∣self into the hollow of a Rock, unknown to men, but well known to God that appeared to him and com∣forted him, asking of him what he made there? Whereto he answered That he was zealous with an ardent zeal for the God of Hosts, but the children of Israel had forsaken him, demolished his Altars, killed his Prophets, and that he alone remained, yet for all that they ceased not to seek his life to extinguish the whole service of God. Upon this God commanded him to come forth, and to stand upon the mountain to see great sights caused by the presence of God. And suddenly there came an impetuous whirlwind that o∣verturned the Mountains and brake the Rocks, but God was not therein; after that impetuous Wind came an Earthquake, but God was not therein; after the Earthquake devouring-Fire, but God was not in those flames; after the Fire, behold there came a small gracious gale, and God was in it. And there∣fore Elijah ravished with a profound respect covered his face with his Mantle, and kept himself at the en∣try of his Cave, where he heard a voyce that deman∣ded of him again what he did there? whereto he an∣swered as before, that he fled from the perfecution of those that would give him the stroke of death for the zeal which he had to the service of the Living God.

But the voyce commanded him to return, and to take again his way through the desert into Damascus, and gave him order to Anoint and declare two Kings, the one over Syria, which was Hazael, and the o∣ther over Israel, which was Jehu that should suc∣ceed his Persecutour. Furthermore, God informed him, that all was not lost, but that he had yet reser∣ved to himself seven thousand servants that had not bowed the knee to Baal, nor lifted up their hands to adore his Idol. He added yet farther, that he should take Elisha for his Companion and Successour, of whom he had reason to expect good effects.

Such was Elijahs Vision, and his discourse with God; and it seemed that this Sovereign Teacher of the Prophets, shewing him the representation of an impetuous wind, of an Earthquake, and of Fire, in which God was not, although he was in a little gen∣tle blast, and would signifie to him that His Spirit is not in those great commotions that would seem to o∣verturn all nature, but in a certain Calm that produ∣ces little noise, but much fruit filling the earth with blessings. So also would he make him hope, that af∣ter these violent persecutions, and those fatall Convul∣sions of Kingdoms, there should come a sweet and peacefull Messias; and that forasmuch as concerned him, Jezabels persecution should cease, and his soul after the toyles of that banishment should taste the sweetnesse of an anticipated Paradise.

He took then his way again according to the com∣mand of God without passing by Samaria, and fin∣ding Elisha plowing the ground with twelve yoak of Oxen, cast his Mantle on him, to signifie to him that he was called of God to that sacred ministery of Pro∣phecy, which the other understood, and quitting in∣stantly his Oxen ran to Elijah, whom he beseeched that he would permit him to go and give the kisse of peace to his Father and Mother, after that he would adhere to nothing, but render himself up to him; which Elijah having granted, he, when he had ac∣quitted himself of his duty, returned and sacrificed two Oxen which he boiled with the wood of his Plough, and made a Feast with them for the people; after which he ranged himself under the conduct of the Prophet, and was a perfect imitatour of his virtues.

An ill occasion embarked him again in a Com∣bat against Ahab and Jezabel, which was fatall to them both. The King had a mind to enlarge his Gar∣dens, and Naboths Vineyard was near his Palace, and for his advantage; he calls for him, and asks him very courteously for it, promising to pay him the price that it was worth, or to buy him a better inheritance in whatsoever place he would. The desire was very ci∣vill, and not like that of so many other Princes and Lords, that disposed at that time of the goods of their subjects as of their own, usurping by violence that which they could not have by right. Yet this good man, that measured all by the affection he bare his Vineyard and not by the submission he owed his Ma∣ster, was obstinate, and told him, That it was the wealth of his Fathers, which he would no way part with.

Ahab was much troubled at this denyall, and re∣turning to his Palace threw himself upon his bed, and would not eat at the ordinary hour of his repast. The Queen his wife being surprised at that accident goes to see him, and inquires after the cause of his indisposi∣tion, which he declared to her out of a desire he had to receive some ease. This Princesse which was a daughter of the King of Sidon, and who knew how her Father reigned absolutely over his subjects falls a laughing, and meaning to blame the weaknesse of her husband, said to him; It appears plainly, Sir, that you are a Prince of great authority, very worthy to go∣vern a Kingdome, since you receive affronts from your subjects, and revenge them upon your self by the losse of your dinner. But if that be all that hinders you, I pray, arise, be merry and eat, for I know the way to make you possessour of that Vineyard that you desire.

At the same instant that Imperious Queen takes her seal, writes a Letter to the Principall men of Jezreel, and commands them to call an Assembly, under co∣lour of a Fast and Publick Prayers, to call Naboth to it, to make him sit amongst the chief, and not to fail to suborn two witnesses against him, that should depose that he had blasphemed against God and his King, and thereupon indite him, and stone him.

Behold how so many Ministers of Iniquity use the Innocent, not seeing that at the same time as they lay snares against the honour, the goods, and the life of their neighbour, an invisible Hand draws up in Hea∣ven the decree of their ruine. This Letter being come to Jezreel, the principall men assemble themselves, and not seeking any delay or incident to sweeten a bad businesse, betray their conscience to avoid the fu∣ry of the King, executing that which was comman∣ded them, and before they are Judges render them∣selves Criminall. Thus go violent Reigns, where vir∣tue is abandoned by some through wvaknesse, and persecuted by others through fury. Miserable Naboth astonished at that wicked calumny, protests his in∣nocence in the face of Heaven and Earth, justifies, and defends himself by good reason; but the false Witnesses, which are the instruments of Satan, and the chief furies against the peace of mankind, urge and torment him; His Judges sold to iniquity con∣demned him; He is led out of the City, delivered to the fury of the people, overwhelmed, as a Blasphe∣mer of God and the King, with a bloody tempest of stones and flints, every hand making it self injurious

against him, some through a false zeal, and others through a compliance with the humours of Ahab and Jezabel.

The news of his death comes instantly to the Court, and Jezabel carries it to the King, without specifying to him any other thing, telling him onely that Naboth was out of the world, and that he might now enjoy his spoils all at leasure. To speak Truth, Great ones have great cause to make to God Davids Prayer, and to beseech him to deliver them from others sinnes, and from those that are hidden from them. Unfortu∣nate Ahab knew nothing of all that had passed, and takes not the pains to inform himself of the manner of that death; He trusted all to his wife, and gave her his signet, his authority his heart and Counsels. It was enough to make him guilty to put the Government of his Kingdome into the hands of that Sidonian wo∣man who, he might well know, had great inclinati∣ons to bloud and rapine. Princes do wisely not to re∣ly too much in every thing upon their Counsellours of State, without watching over their actions, and using all diligence to discover their deportments without be∣lieving any thing lightly either on one side or the o∣ther.

Ahab without taking any farther information was going to possesse himself of Naboths bloudy spoil; when the Prophet Elijah by the command of God came and found him upon the way, and began to roar against him as a Lyon, What, sayes he, Murther the Innocent, and take away his Inheritance bedewed with his bloud? After this what is there more to do? Know, Sir, that the Vengeance of God hangs over your head, and that in the same place as the Doggs licked the bloud of Naboth they shall lick yours. This unhappy Prince extreamly amazed at so thundering a speech was not incensed against the Prophet, but en∣deavouring to pacifie him, said to him, Wherein have I offended you? and in what have you found me your enemy, that you use me with all these rigours? You are enough mine enemy, sayes the Prophet, seeing you are Gods; and since yee have sold your selfe, through love to an Idolatrous woman, to serve her passions, and commit so many wicked acts in the face of God. In punishment of your crimes, He will ruine your House, and blot out your Posterity; the bloud of that mur∣thered Innocent will cost Jezabel dear, for she shall be caten up of Doggs in the field of Jezreel.

Poor Ahab returns hanging down his head with∣out passing farther, tormented on one side by the remorse of his own Conscience, and on the other by the love he bare to his Sidonian, whom he would not any way displease. He said nothing to her of all that shee had done without his privity, in Naboth's busi∣nesse, whether through affection, or through fear of her wicked Spirit. He revenges himself upon him∣self, he rents his Clothes, he fasts, he covers him∣self with sackcloth, without putting it off even when he went to bed; which softned the heart of God, who ordained that the Kingdome should not be taken from him during his life, but that his Posterity should be deprived of it.

Three years were slipt away, and Elijah was ab∣sent, when Ahab resolved to proclaim warre with the King of Syria, to recover Ramoth one of his Cities that the other had usurped, and engaged Jehosaphat King of Juda to his party, making a new Alliance of Arms and Interests with him. When they were assem∣bled, Jehosaphat which had a zeal to the true Religion, said, That it would be good to consult with some Pro∣phet before they enterprised the warre; and Ahab to content him, called for four hundred, but they were the false Prophets of his wife, who were none of the best, and who foretold him all falsoly, that he should have an happy issue of his enterprise. King Jehosa∣phat asked Ahab, whether amongst that great num∣ber of Baals Prophets there were never a Prophet of the true God that one might hear speak, meaning by this to induce him to his duty, and to the knowledge of the true Religion. Ahab replyed that there was none at present, but a certain man named Michaiah, but he could not endure him, because he prophecied nothing but mischief to him. Jehosaphat said, that he ought not for that to hate him, but that it would be good to hear him, and instantly was sent away a Gen∣tleman of the Court to call him. This man ceased not to advise him upon the way to remit something of that rigour that was usuall to him, and to render himself complacent to the King as all the other Prophets had done; whereto he answered, That he could do nothing against the Spirit of God, nor against his conscience. When he was come, he perceived a great assembly of false Prophets, who all approved that warre. One among them named Zedechiah had made himself iron horns, to signifie to King Ahab that he should ran∣sack all Syria with a mighty power, and that no∣thing should resist his Arms. But Michaiah being asked, spake at first by fiction, as the other Pro∣phets, foretelling prosperities without end. Whereat the King being astonished that he did it against his cu∣stome, conjured him not to flatter him, and to tell him openly the truth. To which he answered, that he would not counsell him to hazard a battell against the King of Syria, for if he did, his whole army would be scattered; and added also, that God had given permission to the wicked spirit to deceive him, and that he had found no better way to do it, then to speak by the mouth of so many false Prophets that encom∣passed him. Whereupon Zedechiah being incensed at that speech gave him a blow, and the King comman∣ded his Person to be seized on, and to be put in prison, to be kept there fasting with bread of tribulation and water of anguish till his return. But the Prophet as∣sured him, that if he went he should never return a∣gain.

It is a strange thing that we cannot believe Truth that comes from the mouth of Gods servants, because it complyes not with our passion. It is also a mani∣fest punishment to those that despise it, not to consi∣der that God begins the ruine of their fortune by the blinding of their Counsels. Ahab obstinate to his mi∣serie marches with all his Army against the King of Syria; Jehosaphat engaged through inconsideration in that league pursues what he had ill begun, and thinks that there is no better means to justifie an errour, then Perseverance.

When the two Kings approached the enemy, and the Armies were ranged in Battell, the King of Syria gave expresse charge to his most resolute men to aim at the King of Israel, and to endeavour to carry him, it being the true means to dispatch the businesse and put an end to the warre. Ahab began to fear his un∣happinesse, and prayed Jehosaphat to go into the ming∣ling, putting him forward with courage out of a de∣sign, perhaps, to cause him to be destroyed, and to draw all the weight of the Army upon him, by di∣verting it from his person; And indeed, when the Sy∣rians thought that he that engaged himself so boldly was the most interressed, and that without doubt there was all likely hood that it was Ahab, they fell upon him with ardour, so that he thought he should have been hemmed in. But when he betook himself to cry∣ing out aloud, animating his souldiers to his defence, the enemies that had a mind to spare him retired to fall on Ahab; It happened that an Archer letting fly

an arrow at randome stroke him with a mortal wound: whereupon he commanded his Coach-man to turn a∣bout, and to draw out of the mingling well perceiving that he was grievously hurt. All the Army was im∣mediately scattered, and the Herald of Arms pro∣claimed that every man might return to his home. King Ahab dyed the same day, and his body was brought back to Samaria, where it happened, that as his Coach that was all bloody was a washing in a pool of the same City, the Dogs ran thither and licked up his bloud according to Elijahs prophecy.

Ahaziah his sonne succeeded him inheriting the superstition and misery of his father; for after he had reigned a very little while, he fell out at a window of his house, and grievously hurt himself, without being ever able to find a remedy to his evill. And having forsaken God, sent messengers to the God of Ekron to know if he should recover from that sicknesse; but the Prophet Elijah having met his Messengers upon the way rebuked them sharply, for that they went to consult with Idols, as if there were no God in Israel; and commanded them to tell their Master, that he should not be cured of his wound, but should dye with∣out ever rising out of the Bed wherein he lay. This Prince offended at this truth, causes the Prophet to be pursued, and sends one of his Captains with fifty soul∣diers to apprehend him: This man in mockery called him Man of God, and prayed him to descend from the mountain whither he had retired himself, but Eli∣jah persisting alwayes in his spirit of rigour, said, that he would give him proofs that should make him know that he was not a Man of God through vanity and irrision, and at the same instant he caused fire to descend from heaven, which consumed him and all his company. Ahaziah sends another of them for the same purpose, which meets also with the same successe. He charges again a third, the Captain of which gain∣ed Elijah by submission, and brought him to his Ma∣ster, to whom he spake constantly the truth, and adver∣tised him of his approaching death; and the other durst not do him any mischief, well knowing that he was under Gods protection.

The truth of the Prophecyed was manifest soon af∣ter by the death of Ahaziah, who had for successour his brother Joram, who reigned twelve years, and al∣though Elijah was already translated from this life that is but a passage to another estate, his Prophecy failed not to be accomplished particularly upon the house of Ahab, and the wicked Jezabel. For Elisha according to the order of God, and the command received from his Master, caused Jehu to be crowned to reign in Is∣rael. To this purpose he dispatched one of his Disci∣ples, put a violl in his hand, wherein was the oyl desti∣ned for his unction, giving him charge to go to Ra∣moth in Gilead, where Jehu one of Jorams principall Captains commanded, and besieged the city continu∣ing the siege that Joram had laid before it, whiles he went to Samaria, to be dressed of some wounds that he had received in the warre against the Syrians. Aboue all he recommended to him that the businesse should be kept very secret, and that when he should be arrived, he should call Jehu aside, and withdraw into some chamber, and there consecrate him King with that un∣ction that he had in his hand, making him know that God gave him his masters house and crown to revenge the bloud of the Prophets and servants of God upon the race of Ahab and on Jazabel.

This sonne of a Prophet sent by Elisha did all that was commanded him, and arriving at the Camp found Jehu environed with other Captains, and si∣gnified to him that he had a word or two to speak to him, which made him quit the company, and enter into a neighbouring chamber, where the other powred out the sacred oyle upon his head, said to him I have anointed you this day over the people of the God of Israel, and consecrated you King to ruine from God the house of Ahab your Master, and to revenge the bloud of the Prophets and servants of God upon Je∣zabel who shall be eaten up of Doggs and no body shall give her buriall. As soon as he had said this he opens the door and flies; Jehu comes forth, and shews himself to his Captains, who had a curiosity to know what had passed in that treaty, and asked of him what that mad-man meant that came to him. Jehu feigning that they well enough knew the cause of it, and need not go about to inform themselves, held them in expectation, and in fine declared to them that it was one of Elisha's desciples that had brought him the news that he should reign in Israel, and that such was the will of God.

It is a wonderfull thing that none of the chief men of the Army opposed themselves against it, but that all at that very instant laid down their Cloaks under Jehu's feet as it were to raise him a throne, and cryed out God save the King. The conspiracy against Jo∣ram being framed, he hinders any notice to be given him, and marches with a strong hand to the City to surprise him, and Ahaziah King of Judah together with him, that was come to visite him in his sicknesse. The sentinell that stood at the gate of the City told that he saw a body of Cavaliers coming in a right line to the City, whereupon the King ordered that one of his men should go out to discover it. This Scout was gained by Jehu, and ranged himself on his side. An∣other is sent out, which do••s also the same; whereat the King being much astonished takes his Coach, and and Ahaziah his, to see what the businesse was. As soon as he perceived Jehu, he said, What? are you not a man of peace? Whereto Jehu replyed, What peace, while the fornications and poysonings of Jeza∣bel your Mother are yet in full vigour? Joram saw plainly by his countenance, and by that answer, that there was mischief, and began to wheel about, saying to Ahaziah his companion We are betrayed, and see∣ing that he was no way prepared to make resistance to such a power betook himself to flight. But Jehu bend∣ing his Bow lets fly an Arrow at him that pierced him through and killed him in his Chariot. At the same instant he caused his body to be taken up to cast it on the road, in the field of Naboth, and pursued Aha∣ziah who having received a mortall wound as he fled gave up the Ghost at Megiddo, from whence he was carried to his Metropolis Jerusalem to be interred with his Fathers.

In the mean while Jehu marches victoriously to the City of Jezreel, and the miserable Jezabel hearing of the death of her sonne by the conspiracy of his e∣nemy, and considering that there was no way to oppose him by arms had recourse to the charmes of her self sex. She was yet in such a condition as she thought her capable to enamour that new King. Instead of putting on mourning, she decks and paints her self, and places her self in a window of the City in sight of all the world to see that Conquerour passe by. But he having cast his eyes on high, asked who that woman was, not being able yet well to discern her so farre off, and when answer was made him that it was Jezabel the Queen, he commanded those that were in the window to throw her down, which they did without any farther delibera∣tion, and the miserable in falling bedewed the wall with her bloud, and expired the remainder of her life under the feet of horses. Jehu remembred as he was at sup∣per what had passed, and was touched with some re∣morse for the usage that had been shewed to Jezabel

his Mistresse, and said to his men, Look out the body of that wretched woman, and give it buriall, for she was a Kings daughter. And when they were come up∣on the place they found nothing but her head, with the ends of her feet and hands, the Doggs having eat up the rest. This history is horrible, and none can suffici∣ently imagine the vengeance of God upon those that violate Religion, and shed the bloud of sacred persons and other of Gods servants.

One cannot justifie Jehu for the bebellion against his Master, but in taking him for a scourge of the wrath of God who was an instrument of his Justice without for all that becomming just. For whatsoever pretence he made of Religion, he was pushed on by a tempestu∣ous and bloudy ambition, and made himself a Reven∣ger of Tyrants for no other end, but to be their succes∣sour, filling with crimes the place that he had voided by fury. He made use of the Prophets fo•• his own in∣terest, and left not to continue the Idolatry of the gol∣den Calves, to render himself pleasing to the most po∣werfull. He was an ambiguous spirit, and had as ma∣ny waters and folds, as he had pretensions. He caused his Mistresse to be killed more for the fear of his mind then for the zeal of Religion. This poor Sidonian that was a woman of a good understanding and courage, in∣stead of living quietly with her husband, was pricked on with a vanity to make her Gods be worshipped, and ceased not to persecute the Prophets, having sworn that she would cause Elijah to be murthered, making him to be followed and sought after in all places with∣out being able to entrap him. But on the contrary he ruined her with all her house, leaving a terrour to all great ones to enterprise any thing against those that are protected under the covert of the face of God.

As this Prophet had been a man of Prodigies in all his Life, so God limited his conversation amongst men with a strange miracle that since Enoch had not been practised in the world. It is said that an egg well emptied and filled with dew will mount on high, and follow the raies of the Sun that draws it. So Elijah by a long exercise of contemplation was purified from all earthly things, and filled with the unction of the Spirit of God. He thought on nothing but on Hea∣ven, where he had lodged the better part of himself. God had revealed to him that he should not dye after the manner of other men, but that he should be rapt and carried away into a place of peace and rest. He expected that most happy day, and thought to steal a∣way even from his own disciple Elisha that would ne∣ver quit him. They were walking both together after they had passed the river Jordan on dry foot, Elijah having divided it with his Mantle, when behold a burning Chariot drawn with Horses of fire comes to take up the Prophet. Elisha his disciple had earnestly begged of him, that his Spirit might be multiplyed in him, as well in what touches Prophecy as the gift of Miracles, and Elijah promised him that it should be granted to him, in case that he could see him when he should be taken up. And this is the reason for which that dear Disciple never went out of his sight so much as one moment, and when that Chariot surrounded with innocent flames presented it self, he saw his Master as∣cend who was on a sudden snatched up above the clouds of heaven in recompence of his zeal and most pure Virginity. Elisha looked upon him with tears in his eyes calling him his Father, the Chariot of Israel, and the Conductour of the people of God. In fine, when he appeared no longer, he rent his clothes wear∣ing mourning for a losse common to all the people of Israel, but very particular to him; and gathered up his Mantle as a precious Relique which he carefully kept, making use of it to divide the waters of Jordan, and to renew the miracles of his Master.

Elijah according to the common opinion was trans∣ported to the Terrestriall Paradise from which he is to come at the Renovation of the world. And as if in that dwelling of delights he had not yet cast away the care and direction of the Court; Joram King of Judah received a Letter from him nine years after his Translation, in which he chid sharply for his bad de∣portments, and foretold him the sicknesse that should happen to him. Some hold that that Letter was writ∣ten by Elijah before he was taken up by way of Pro∣phecy, and kept till that time by Elisha. Others as the Hebrews think that it came by Miracle and by the Ministery of an Angell, directed by Elijah at the same time, to teach us, That the Saints renounce not a Legitimate care of the Court, and of the Af∣fairs of the World, when they are to be directed to the glory of God, to whom the Living and the Dead ought to render the Homages of their Fi∣delity.

ELISHA.

HE that hath seen Elijah cannot be ignorant of Elisha, seeing his master made him heir of his Spirit (as it were) by a wonderfull transpiration. That man of fire engraved his cha∣racter upon the person that he loved most in all the world, with so perfect an expression, that he seemed to be born again in him in every thing that he had of excellency.

He went to take a new life in a terrestriall paradise without losing that which he had in the world. He lived in the one by himself, and in the other by Elisha; in the one he performed contemplative Functions, and in the other, active; in the one he was a Demi-god, and in the other the Prince of men. That Mantle of Elijah was more then an heaven bespangled with its Starres, since it carried so many Lights and Sciences. It dryed up the waters of Jordan, but it opened at the same time springs of Wisdome. It was an Oracle (more admirable then the gift of the high Priest) that spake without a voyce, and taught without a school, that could change in a moment Ignorants into Doctours, and Peasants into Prophets.

Elisha was taken from the plough, and after he had till'd the earth, he manured his own spirit. He that commanded a little field, exercised his Empire over great kingdomes; he made and unmade Kings, as the true servant of Elijah, or rather as the Interpreter of God. Happy are the lands (said one) that were here∣tofore tilled by the hands of Triumphers, and with a Plough crowned with Lawrels; but more happy those of Elisha, that experimented that same arm as was to divide the waters and crown Kings.

O what a great thing is Nothing in the hands of God! since that a man come from the plough does mi∣racles in Nature, and prodigies in Empires. His won∣ders have in some sort exceeded those of his master, for he resembled the shoots of the vine that raise them∣selves even above the tree that have served them for a prop. We let passe all that he did amongst the peo∣ple, to consider him treating with the Kings and Prin∣ces of the earth where we shall see how he brought the Maxims of heaven.

The first encountre that happened to him at Court, was with three Kings, Jehoshaphat King of Juda, Jo∣ram King of Israel, and the King of Idumea. Joram had taken arms against the King of Moab, that refu∣sed to pay him a certain tribute, and had drawn to his party those two other Kings that went to aid him in person. Now as they passed through the deserts of Idumea, they were in extreme want of water, so that the men and beasts were ready to perish; which put Joram in an unspeakable grief, seeing that he had as∣sembled those two Kings with their armies, to make them die with thirst. Jehoshaphat, that was more pious then he, counsels him to have recourse to God by the intercession of some Prophet. One of his Courtiers suggests Elisha to him, who was near the place. The three Kings go to seek him in a company, to implore his aid.

But as soon as the Prophet saw Joram the son of Ahab, who was an Idolater, as his father had been, he said to him with an incomparable constancy, What have we to do together? Go, and consult with the Pro∣phets of your father, and of your mother Jezabel; those that are the servants of God are not for you. This was to expresse contempt enough to a King; and yet it is the fashion of men at Court not to be repulsed at first by the disdains and anger of a man with whom they have businesse. This man pursues and tells him, that it was a piteous spectacle to see three Kings pe∣rish for thirst, and ready to be delivered into the hands of the Moabites. Elisha remaining in the same opini∣on, replyed, were it not for the respect I bear Jeho∣shaphat, who is a worshipper of the true God, I would not so much as look you in the face.

Which discovers clearly, that alliances with Infi∣dels, although for certain necessities they may be some∣what tollerable, cease not for all that to be alwayes much to be feared. Elisha would not for that time ad∣dresse himself to Jehoshaphat and disunite him from that enterprise, imitating the prudence of those that let a businesse begun run on, when it may any way be defended; but yet he sufficiently expressed, that that company did not please him: and when Jehoshaphat was returned to his house from the warre that he had maintained with Ahab against the King of the Syrians, the Prophet chid him for it, and told him, that he de∣served the wrath of God for having given aid to an impious King; but that he had had a regard to other good works done by him, and was not willing to de∣stroy him So Elisha could not endure to see that com∣pany with him, and was so farre transported with a fervency of zeal, that he was fain to call for a musician to sing some song, and by his harmonies appease the ardours and commotions of his spirit, to set it again in a perfect calmnesse. After this, he felt the powerfull effects of the hand of God, and in a desperate drought commanded to make channels and pits, and promised water in abundance, with a compleat victory over the Moabites. And this Prophecy was verified the morrow after, when streams were seen gliding in all places, to the comfort and admiration of all the world.

The Moabites having discovered the design of these three Kings that came out against them, put themselves into the field, and when they perceived upon the break of day a river that was all red by the reflexion of the rayes of the Sun that shined upon it, they ima∣gined that their enemies had mutually slain each other, that that river was red with their bloud, and that there was no more to do but to run after their spoils. But they were extremely amazed when they saw themselves combated furiously by those that they had put in the number of the dead. The King retired into his capitall city, which was imme∣diately besieged, and pressed with violence. He es∣sayed to make a sally and surprise the Idumeans, but had no good successe. And therefore he had recourse to an horrible attempt, and made a pitifull tragedy; for he killed his onely son, the heir apparent of his kingdome, and offered him in sacrifice to his false Gods, causing his head to be cut off as a victim, upon the ramparts, in the view of all the world. The devil had perswaded those miserable Pagans that the sacrificing of humane bloud was sovereign to appease the wrath of the Gods; which made this desperate King slay his own son to preserve his Crown and State by a remedy worse then the disease.

This mad man saw not that Kingdomes cemented with the bloud of innocents cannot be of long continu∣ance in the hands of those that possesse them by such inhumane wayes; and that sacrificing his own son to buy a Peace, he made himself an interiour warre

in his own soul, and raised against himself a thousand furies, with as many snakes and torches to stirre up bloudy remorses the rest of his whole life. The be∣siegers had such an indignation at an act so barbarous, that they left the siege through horrour, being un∣willing any more to presse him that for the fear of evil had descended (in their opinions) to the last of evils. This warre had good successe, and the presence of a faithfull King brought a blessing to the Infidels; whereas at other times the faithfull ones have perished by their alliance with the Infidels: as it happen'd to Ahaziah, King of Juda, who was at last killed by Jehu for having too much embraced the friendship of those that were not of his Religion.

Now although the Prophet Elisha had an heart pierced with grief to see Joram separated from the true God, yet he left not to suffer him as long as Pro∣vidence would have it so, to serve him like a good sub∣ject, and to give him advice very necessary for the pre∣servation of his State. He declared to him the coun∣sels and the enterprises of the King of Syria his enemy, which he knew by the spirit of Prophecy, so that the other was amazed to hear that the most secret busi∣nesses which he had treated in his cabinet with his most intimate confidents were discovered. He thought that his Counsellours of State sold him to the King of Israel, but one assured him that that came from the Prophet Elisha who knew things to come by the Spirit of God, which was in him in a wonder∣full manner.

This Prince inflamed with choler, dispatches imme∣diately Souldiers (in a great number) to apprehend Elisha, who failed not to beset the little city of Do∣than whither the Prophet was retired. The Prophets servant being risen at break of day, to go abroad, per∣ceived those companies of men of arms, and ran to his master much affrighted, crying out, That all was lost, and that the city was environned with chariots and with horses that came to take him. But Elisha filled with the confidence that he had in God his great Ma∣ster, made him answer, That there was nothing to be feared, and that his party was much the stronger; which seemed very hard to be believed by a man whom fear had so much shaken, till such time as his Master taking away the fillet of ignorance that was upon his eyes, discovered to him a mountain full of chariots and of horses that entowred Elisha, and watched for his protection.

Thus it pleases God sometimes to draw his servants out of the hands of persecutours by extraordinary won∣ders. At other times he permitts darknesse to exer∣cise its power upon the light, and the impious to take and persecute the just; to render them glorious by their sufferings. He would not admit on the day of his Pas∣sion the twelve legions that he might have obtained of his heavenly Father for his defense, that he might not deprive our Christianity of the example of his dolours; and yet he raises up armies of fire to defend Elisha, with intention to make us see that he is able to hinder us from receiving any harm, but that it is the greater glory to conquer it by Patience.

The Prophet seeing the heavenly legions that stood to aid him, would not for all that thunder strike those that came to take him, but contented himself to blind them for a time, that he might have given them light for ever, if they would have preferred it before dark∣nesse. Those poor men seeing themselves struck with such a sudden blindnesse were extremely astonished, yet (as malice quits not so soon her venome) they sought for the servant of God, blind-folded, dark∣ned as well in mind as body, when he presented him∣self to them, and told them that he would shew them the man they sought for if they would follow him, which being agreed to, he led them straight into Sama∣ria, the capitall city of their enemies, and at the instant restored to them their eyes, to give them the knowledge of the danger wherein they we••e.

They thought that there was nothing now remain∣ing to them but to be cut in pieces, and indeed, Joram the King of Israel would have caused them to be mas∣sacred, had not Elisha forbid him to touch them, be∣cause that he had not got them by the point of the sword, but were come by miracle into his hands. Fur∣thermore, he ordered that something should be given them to eat, which was done, and after they had taken their refection, they were sent back the straight way into their Countrey. Behold a courtesie worthy of the New Testament and of the Evangelicall Law! Elisha would not that his miracles should be mis∣chievous; he contented himself to overcome those by Benefits that he might hurt by Justice, to shew, that there is nothing so victorious as a great heart that can make visible, that it is the highest point of power and goodnesse, to pardon that by grace and mercy that might be revenged by reason.

Some time after, Benhaded King of Syria came to lay siege to the city of Samaria, where the King was shut in, and pressed so vigorously the besieged by fa∣mine, that an asse's head was sold for fourscore livers, and a little barrel of pigeons dung for five franks. It was an extreme rage, and a furious despair that expect∣ed nothing but the heighth of evils for its remedy.

It happen'd that King Joram passed through the street, that he put on sackcloth under his clothes, when a poor woman all beblubber'd with tears came to him, and requested of him life and safety; but the poor King not knowing what to do for her, said onely to her, That he was not God to give her bread: she then desired Justice of him in a controversie which she had with a wicked woman. The King was content to hear her, and thereupon she told him, that she had made an agreement with that woman to eat together two little sons whereof they were mothers, on such condi∣tions that hers should be eaten first, and that the mor∣row following, her neighbours should be serv'd up to the table also; and that in the pursuance of this, her little son had been massacred and devoured by his own mo∣ther and the complice of her crime: but that now there was a question of proceeding to eat the son of her camrade, she had hid him, and refused to give him, and that thereupon she beseeched his Majesty to do her Justice. Joram was so affrighted at the proposi∣tion of that woman that he rent his clothes, and put himself in mourning.

But instead of humbling himself, he sware that the head of Elisha should not stay a day longer upon his shoulders, vexing against him, that he being so power∣full, suffered such a famine of his people without help∣ing it. He was like those Mexicans that make their King swear that the Sunne shall give the Day, and the Clouds their Rain, and the Earth its Fruits; and in case that this fails, lay the blame on him and murder him. He imagined that the Prophet had barrennesse and fruitfulnesse in his hands, as his master Elijah, and that he ought to sacrifice him for the Publick. This speech cost Joram dear, who was afterward disposses∣sed of his kingdome; and the Prophet doubting of his attempt, said to those that were about him, That the son of the murderer Ahab had given command to cut off his head, that he that was to give the stroke was upon the way, and that they should keep the door fast shut: where we see, that the same Prophet that had before fiery legions at his command, is on terms to defend himself after a fashion weak enough to

resist the forces of a King. But it is to teach us, that God gives not alwayes to the Saints the power of Mi∣racles, no more then the spirit of Prophecy, and that that failing, they ought to make use of the lights of their ordinary prudence.

It may be inferr'd from the sacred Text, that Joram changed his mind, and came himself to find Elisha, not as a persecutour, but in quality of a suppliant, ad∣vertising him of the extreme rage of the famine by the accident that had newly happen'd to those miserable women. Then Elisha inspir'd, promised aloud, that in that very time that seem'd so calamitous, a bushel of meal should be sold but for twenty sous at the gate of Samaria, and that for the same price one should have two of barley. Whereto one of the Nobles of the Court, on whom the King leaned, replyed, That that would be very hard to be believed, though it should please God to open windows in heaven to make it rain corn. But Elisha answered, that he should see that miracle before his eyes, but should not enjoy its good effects.

The morrow after it happen'd, that four lepers that had withdrawn themselves near to the gate of Sama∣ria, pressed with hunger and with misery, of which they could find no ease, neither within nor without the city, were resolv'd to go into the camp of the enemy, to find there either bread or death. As they approach∣ed their trenches, they perceiv'd that all was empty; which made them venture to enter in their tents, where they found abundance of booty and began to pillage. Yet they had some remorse of conscience to think so ardently upon their own profit, without carrying that good news to the city, and ran instantly to the porters of Samaria, to cause the King to be advertised of that happinesse. He was so out of hope, that this made him enter into distrust, lest it should be a plot of the enemies, out of a design to make them come forth and so surprise them. A resolution was made, that some Cavaliers should be sent forth to discover what had passed, and of the five horses that were left in the city, the rest being consumed by the famine, two are dis∣patched, who confirm the news brought by the former messengers, and assure that the Syrians had raised the siege in disorder, forsaking their victuall, their ammu∣nitions, and all their riches. The God of hosts that holds in his hand the issues of battels and of sieges, had operated therein, raising a fervour in them that made them believe, that the King of Egypt and the King of the Hittites were coming to fall upon them with huge annies to cut them in pieces, whereat they were so affrighted that they quitted all that they had most precious to save their lives.

This hunger-starv'd people that had been so long shut up within the walls of a desolate city goes out in throngs, and runs on all sides to the prey that the hand of heaven had prepared for them. The abundance was so great, that the Prophecy of Elisha was verified, and that great Lord that had contraried it by derision was trod to death by the people at the gate of the city; so dangerous it is to distrust the power of God, and to oppose his Prophets.

Elisha had another passage with Naaman, in which he expressed a great generosity. This Naaman was a Syrian by Nation, and Lord high Constable of the King of Syria. His condition had filled him with honours and with riches, but his constitution had bur∣dened him with a shamefull leprosie that deprived him of all the sweetnesses of his life. God that often makes the renown of great personages fly upon the tongue of simple people where it is lesse sophisticated, permitted that a little girle (a slave) that had come from Judea, that was at that time in Naaman's wife's service, should speak a thousand good words of the miracles of Elisha to her mistresse; and assured her, that he would easily be able to restore health to her master, and to cure him of his leprosie.

This came to the King of Syria's ears, who very much prised his Constable by reason of the great and faithfull services that he had done him. And, as those that desire cure neglect no advices, he sends Naaman to the King of Israel with many presents, requesting him to heal him by the means of his Prophet. The King was greatly amazed at these letters, and imagined that that crafty Syrian meaned to pick a quarrel with him to invade his kingdome, entreating him as a Dei∣ty, as if he had been the authour of life and death. His apprehension was so great, that he rent his clothes and put himself in mourning, as in the danger of near disastre.

But Elisha comforted him made him know that there was a most mighty God in Israel that wrought by his Prophets, and bad him not to fail to send the sick man to him, which he did, and Naaman was immediately at Elisha's door, with a great train of chariots and hor∣ses. But the Prophet having a mind to shew at that time that he was not moved with the vanity of all the retinue of great personages would not so much as see him, but sent him word that he should go and wash himself seven times in Jordan, and then he should re∣cover his health. This Lord was vext at so dry a proceeding, and went away discontented, saying, That if there were no other mystery in it, his own countrey wanted not springs and rivers; so ordinary it is for men to slight remedies that seem too easie, and for the imagination to look to be entreated with pomp.

Yet his servants told him, that the experiencing of that counsel would not cost him much, and would an∣noy him nothing, and that in any case he should make triall of it, which he did, and carried away a perfect cure; whereat he was so ravished, that he betook him∣self suddenly to Elisha's house to give him thanks, confessing that there was no other God in the world but that of Israel, in such a manner, as that he gained the health of his soul by that of his body, and quitted at the same time his leprosie and his infidelity:

He urged the Prophet to accept abundance of rich presents, wherewith he came well laden, but he con∣stantly refused them, which is no small proof of virtue and of greatnesse of courage. For covetousnesse is like the shadow that hinders the light of the sun, extin∣guishes its heat, and nourishes serpents; so she doth eclipse the brightnesses of the spirit of the Prophets, deads the love of the Devout, and gives nourishment to the Passions. Men antiently were try'd by the river of Rhine, but now they are experimented by the golden streams of Pactolus. Those that render Piety mercinary, have none at all; the spirit in them follows the flesh, aad heaven gives way to earth. All the im∣portunities of Naaman could not shake Elisha; he was a basilisk that could not be enchaunted by the charms of avarice; he had eyes of proof against the glistering of the gold of Syria; when he would have no money, the other begged of him a little earth, as much onely as would load two mules, to build an Altar to the true God with holy ground, and not profaned by Idola∣try; expressing by this request, that he desired to wor∣ship the true God in spirit and in truth, though he re∣ceived not Circumcision, nor the other Ceremonies of the Jews. He aded to his former suit the permission to accompany his master to the Temple of the Idols through a pure civility, without rendring any inward a∣doration to the Gods of Syria, which the Prophet gran∣ted him, and sent him away in peace, all full of blessing.

But Gehazi Elisha's servant was like to spoil all by a wicked cozenage; for he ran after Naaman, who see∣ing him come, alighted out of his chariot and received him with much honour, asking what he desired of him. The other feigned, that two children of the Prophets were come to see his master, and that he desired to gra∣tifie them with a talent of silver, and to give to each of them a change of raiment. Naaman thought him∣self obliged by this request, and instead of one talent gave him two, with two handsome suits of clothes, causing all of it to be carried by two of his servants, by reason that a talent of silver was a good load for one man. Gehazi thought that he had succeeded brave∣ly in his cheat, but when he presented himself to his master, he told him, that he had been present in spirit at all that had passed, and that he was not ignorant, that he had at present silver from Naaman enough to become a great Lord, and to buy lands and servants; but for punishment of his crime, the leprosie of Naa∣man should stay on him, and should passe as an inhe∣ritance to all his race: and at that instant he was strick∣en with the leprosie, and retired himself, leaving an horrible example to all those that betray their consci∣ence to satiate their covetousnesse.

It happens that these bad servants extremely black the reputation of their masters that have not alwayes their eyes on their shouldiers, as Elisha had, to see that which passes behind them; but when they imagine that they live very innocently, and that they discharge their consciences in their charges, one may find that a crafty wife, or a corrupted Committee sell them by a thousand practices, and devour the marrow and the bloud of men under the favour of their name. Sigis∣mond the Emperour made one of his officers named Pithon, that had betrayed his affairs through covet∣ousnesse of money, drink up a glasse of melted gold. 'Twas but a bad potion, but sutable for the chastise∣ment of an overflowing avarice that hath no longer eyes for heaven, having already given all her heart to the earth. It is credible that Naaman was advertised of the untrustinesse of Gehazi, and that this nothing blemished the high reputation of Elisha, that was spread through all Syria.

After the cure of this Naaman, Benhadad, that was his Master and his King, fell into a mortall sicknesse, and when he had learnt that the Prophet Elisha was come as farre as his city of Damascus, he dispatched Hazael, one of the prime men of his Kingdome with fourty camels laden with great riches, to consult with him about the hope that he might have of his recovery, and to desire his help. The Prophet was not like Hyppocrates that would cure none but Greeks, and refused to go into Persia, though he was invited thither by letters, and by the offers of that great and magni∣ficent King Artaxerxes. But quite contrary, the man of God thought that one ought not to limit the gifts of heaven, and that he that opens the trea∣sures of nature to all the Nations of the earth, would not have one detain the marks of his power with∣out communicating them to those that bear in any fashion his Image.

He cleansed the leprosie of Naaman, but yet for all that cured not Benhadad, because it was a decree of Providence that he should die of that sicknesse. The Scripture tells us not expresly what became of those great presents, but it leaves us to think that Elisha re∣fused them as he had done those of Naaman, and did nothing that belyed his generosity. Although one may also believe that he accepted them, as well to diminish the levies of the enemies of his people, as to spread them amongst the poor of his own countrey. He spake onely to this Hazael the Kings Embassadours a very short speech, which was, that he should die of that sicknesse, and should never rise out of his bed again; and yet in appearance he commands him to tell him, that he should escape it, and recover again his health.

Which causes here a question to arise (thorny enough) touching the permission of a lie, and which hath made Cassian and other antient Divines say that there are some profitable lies which one ought to make use of, as one uses serpents to make treacle. But this opinion is no way followed, but is found condemned by S. Augustine, and the most renowned Doctours. So that when Elisha said to Prince Hazael touching his King, He shall die, but tell him he shall escape: we ought to take it as a command that authorizes a lie, but as a prophecy of that which should be done. For the Prophet foresaw these two things with one and the same sight, both that Benhadad should die, and that Hazael, to flatter him, should promise him health and life. And therefore he addes, Tell him that he shall escape; which in a Prophets terms is as much as a future, and means, that although I declare to you his death, yet I know you well, and am certain, that according to your politick Maxims you will not fail to promise him a cure. It is just as God commaaded the evil spirit to lie and to deceive Ahab, foretelling what he would do, and not commanding that which ought not to be done according to the laws of a good conscience.

As Elisha was foretelling of that Kings death, he felt an extasie of spirit, and changed countenance nota∣bly, and began to weep, whereat Hazael was much astonished, and had a curiosity to know the reason of a change so sudden. But the Prophet continuing in the trans-ports of his spirit, said unto him, I weep and I sigh bitterly, for I know the evils that thou wilt make my poor people one day suffer. Thou wilt burn down the fair cities; thou wilt make the young men passe by the edge of the sword; thou wilt dash out the brains of the little infants; thou wilt inhumane∣ly rip up women great with child; thou wilt sack my dear countrey, for which I now pour out my tears by way of advance. The Embassadour was amazed at a discourse so strange, and said, Why? What am I should do all these outrages? God forbid that I should ever ever proceed so farre; I have in all this no more belief then hath my dog.

But Elisha insisting, told him, I know by divine Revelation that thou shalt be King of Syria, and that which I say shall come to passe under thy Reign. Behold a strange Prophecy, and some body may wonder that Elisha did not cause that wicked man to be strangled that was to make all those tragedies; for how many mothers are there that would have choaked their own children at their breast, if they had foreseen that after they had sucked their milk they would one day assume the spirit of an hang∣mand, to tyrannize over mankind! Yet Elisha re∣jects not that Hazael, but consecrates him King by his speech, because that he knew that it was a disposition of God who would make use of him as of the rod of his fury, to chastise the Idolatries of his Kings, and the sins of his People.

All men of God have this property, to submit themselves exceedingly to Gods will, although it seems to will and permit things strangely lamentable. In conclusion, as Predictions are very ticklish and flatter the intention of those that promise them∣selves Empires and wonders; they animate also the heart of those that have wicked undertakings; and one ought never to permit any one to take con∣sulations with Astrologers and Southsayers about

the life and fortune of great men. This Embassa∣dour returning to the Court deceived his King giving him all hopes of a life, and when he doubted least of death, strangled him with a wet napkin, pay∣ing himself with a Kingdome for a recompence of his wickednesse. And although it was a dispositi∣on of God that Benhadad should be deprived of his Sceptre, yet it failed not to be a crime in Hazael.

The last rancounter that Elisha had at Court was with King Joash, who went to see him a little before his death; and this Prince foreseeing that he would quickly depart out of this world said to him weeping that he was the Father, the Chariot, and the Conductour of his Kingdome, and of all his People: expressing, that he was afflicted with the regret of his losse above all the things of the world. But Elisha to comfort him, made him take his bow and arrows, and put his hand upon the Kings hand as to guide it; after that, he commanded the win∣dow to be set open towards Syria, and caused the King to let flie an arrow which he accompanied with Propheticall words, saying, That it was the arrow of salvation, whose feathers God himself did guide, and that it was a messenger that prophesied to him, that he should combate and destroy the Syrians, enemies of his people.

After that, he bad Joash again strike the ground with the point of a dart that he had in his hand, which he did three times; and the Prophet told him that he should carry away as many victories over the King of Syria; but if he had stricken till seven times he should have ruined him even to the utmost consummation,

A little while after Elisha dyed, with an high reputation of sanctity, and an extreme regret of all the orders of the kingdome, and was interred in a place where he raised afterward a dead man by the touching of his bones; God rendring every thing wonderfull in him, even to his very ashes.

It appears by all this discourse, that this perso∣nage had not a Piety idle and fearfull, amorous of its own small preservation, without caring for the pub∣lick good; but he had an heart filled with generous flames for the protection of his people, and an incom∣parable security to shew to Princes the estate of their conscience. He supported all the Realm by his pray∣ers, by his exhortations, by his heroick actions: and the losse of one such man was the overthrow of the prime Pillar of the State.

ISAIAH. JEREMIAH.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of the Prophet Isaiah

ISAIAH THE PROPHET

[illustration] portrait of the Prophet Jeremiah

IEREMIAH THE PROPHET

THe Prophet Isaiah hath engraved his spi∣rit in his Book, and cannot be commen∣ded more advantageously then by his works. He that would make him great Elogies after so sublime a Prophecy would seem to intend to shew the Sun with a torch. The things that are most excellent make themselves known by themselves, as God and the Light; and I may say, all the words that this divine Personage hath left us, are as many characters of his Im∣mortality.

It is with a very just title that we put him amongst the holy Courtiers, for he was born at the Court of Judea, and some hold that he was the nephew of King Amasiah. This birth so elevated, and so many fair hopes which might flatter him to make him follow the course of the great ambitions of the world, did no way shake the force of his spirit. It was a soul con∣secrated to things Divine, that sacrificed the first fires of his youth by the most pure flames of Angels. Ne∣ver did Prophet enter into that Ministery with more authority and disposition of heaven.

He had a sublime vision, in which he saw the Majesty of God seated upon a Throne of Glory envi∣ron'd with Seraphims, that were transported through the admiration of his greatnesse. God in person crea∣ted him his Prophet; the Seraphim, a messenger of the sovereign power, purified his lips with a Carbun∣cle, from whence proceeded a celestiall fire, that if he had got any pollutions at the Court, where tongues are so free, they might be taken away by that sacred touch. He offered himself to God with an heart full of chearfulnesse, to carry his word before Kings and Subjects, without fearing their menaces or their furies. And he acquitted himself all his life time worthily of that duty, and prophesied more then fourscore and ten years, not ceasing to exhort, to counsel, to rebuke, to instruct, to comfort, and to perform all the exercises of his charge.

His Eloquence is as elevated as his birth; he speaks every where like a King, with a speech firm, lofty, and thundering, that passes all the inventions of man. When he threatens and fore-tells the calamities of Na∣tions, it is so much lightning kindled by the breath of Seraphims that proceeds out of this Divine mouth that pierces the rocks, that shakes the mountains, that crushes the highest cedars into dust, the nations into fear, and the Kings into respect.

When he comforts, they are rivers of milk and ho∣ney that flow from his tongue, and spread themselves with incomparable sweetnesses into afflicted hearts. When he describes the perfections and the reign of the Messias, they are the amorous extasies of a spirit melted by the heats of Jesus that strikes, burns, and penetrates him more then seven hundred years before his Birth.

The holinesse of his Life marched alwayes hand in hand with his Doctrine; He was a man, dead to all worldly things, that lived but by the raptures of his deified spirit. He loved singularly the poor, and com∣forted them in all their necessities. He spake to Kings and reproved their sins with an heroick constancy wor∣thy of his Bloud and Ministery.

At the same time, as Romulus began the Court of Rome, Isaiah saw that of Judea, where he experimen∣ted great changes and strange diversities according to the revolutions of humane things. He passed his youth under his uncle Amasiah who was at first a Prince good enough, and very obedient to the voyce of the Prophets; for when he had enterprised a migh∣ty warre with the Idumeans, he raised two armies, one of his own people, and the other of the unbelieving Israelites which he had invited to his aid; but when the Prophet told him that he did not well to make use of the Arms of Israel that was impious and sepa∣rated from the true God; he discharged them freely, although he had already paid an hundred thousand men, and contenting himself with his own troops, gave them battel, which he gained with great ad∣vantages.

But it is a strange thing, that by taking the Idume∣ans, he took also their Gods to worship them in Jeru∣salem,

and made himself an arm of hay with the prop of these imaginary Deities that had in nothing profi∣ted their adorers. A man of God that prophesied in those times rebuked him sharply for it; but he deman∣ded who made him the Kings Counsellour, and threat∣ned to slay him, if he did not learn to hold his peace. The other, without being afraid, denounced against him that he should come to some ill end, and left him by flying from the Court. After which, this misera∣ble Prince fell into a reprobate sense, was taken in war by his enemy the King of Israel; his capitall city was laid waste, the Temple and his palace pillaged; there was no more that remained to him but a shamefull and miserable life which his own subjects tare from him by a wicked conspiracy.

Ʋzziah his son and Isaiah's cousin-german was set on his fathers Throne at sixteen years of age, and reigned a very long time with a reign peaceable enough. He built some cities, and fortified others, set in order an Arcenall stored with good arms, enterprised wars against the Philistims, which he ended happily enough. He defeated also the Ammonites and the Arabians, which made incursions upon his territories, and renowned himself by famous victories. He em∣braced also willingly his rest in season, and addicted himself in the time of peace to husbandry.

The conversation of his dear cousin that began to prophesie the seventeenth year of his Reign, contribu∣ted many good effects to his government. But as he saw himself enjoy a long Reign, with abundance of favours from heaven, he became very absolute in his will, and would joyn the high-Priest-hood to the Royalty. For he took the censer, entred into the Tem∣ple, presented himself at the Altar of Perfumes, to burn Incense after the manner of the Priests, and al∣though the high Priest Azarias opposed him stoutly, he desisted not from that attempt, till such time as by a manifest punishment from heaven he found himself on a sudden touched with a leprosie, which appeared on his face, and rendred him hideous, and out of know∣ledge, which made the Priests (animated by the judge∣ment of God that had intervened thereon) chase him from the Temple; and he was constrained to retire himself unto an house out of Jerusalem, having left the administration of his Kingdome to his son.

This change was very sensible to the Prophet that had loved him tenderly, and supported the interests of his house; but on the other side, it was a comfort to him to see that he had a sense of his fault, and had reduced himself voluntarily unto the obscurity of that life for the chastisement of his sin.

His example ought to serve for a terrour to the Secular Powers that will encroach upon the Ministery of the Priests, and break the barriers that Providence hath established for the differencing of the Spirituall and Temporal Authority. There is need sometimes but of a little tongue of Earth to separate two seas, and to keep them in good intelligence, but if one should go and cut it off, they would mix themselves and make a great deluge. So may we say, that the wisdome of God hath put certain bounds between the Priests and the Kings, which keep the affairs of the Church and of the State in a good temper; but when certain young Abiram's interpose themselves to confound these Powers, they overflow the banks, and make wastes prejudiciall to mankind.

After the death of Ʋzziah, Jotham who was already fitted for businesse, took the government with title of a King, and making a strong reflexion upon the deportments of his grandfather and of his father, ex∣tracted from thence a most excellent lesson, ruling his subjects with great moderation so that the Prophet Isaiah had nothing to do with him.

But he left an abominable son named Ahaz that quitted the God of his fathers, renewed the Idolatries of the most corrupted of his Predecessours, took the false Religion of the Kings of Israel, caused statues to be planted on the mountains and on the hills, offer∣ed Incense to them, made his children passe through the fire, and consecrated them to Idols; which drew the wrath of heaven upon him and upon his people which was beaten with a thousand scourges and most great calamities.

The Prophet Isaiah saw all these storms falling down upon the miserable Judea, and ceased not to fore∣warn them, and to arm himself with a mouth of fire against the disorders of that wicked Prince; but it was without much effect, he being so much cor∣rupted.

Who would ever have thought that of so bad a fa∣ther should have been born so excellent a son as Heze∣kiah, who was instructed by Isaiah, and followed to∣tally the course of his will and counsels so Divine, so wholesome; and wiped out the blot that his father had imprinted upon the Altars of the living God, and made the true Religion flourish again, which seemed altoge∣ther extinguished in the confusions of an abandoned age! He brake down all the Idols that that unhappy Ahaz had erected. He dissipated the profane Groves planted on the mountains for the exercise of his abo∣minations. He did not pardon so much as the bra∣zen Serpent that Moses had caused to be set up to a good end, although the Idolaters had afterwards abused it.

He commanded that the Temple should be purifi∣ed and cleansed by the Levits, together with the Ta∣bernacle and sacred Vessels, polluted by his predeces∣sour. He renewed the order of the Sacrifices, and the Quoires of Singers dedicated to the praises of God; he rallied all the faithfull people to celebrate the Passe∣over and the other solemne Feasts amongst the Jews. This Reign was a golden Age, and a true school of Wisdome, when the Prophet and the King conspired with a wonderfull accord in the service of their great Master. Isaiah ceased not to produce sound thoughts; and that which was wholesomely thought on by that holy man, was stoutly executed by the courage∣ous piety of this good King. He laboured in all things for the honour of him on whom do depend all Crowns, and God also laboured powerfully for him, doing more businesse in one night then the arms of iron and steel could have done in ten years.

Every one knows how Sennacherib the King of the Assyrians came to lay siege before Jerusalem with a prodigious army, against which there was no humane resistance. He sent a certain man named Rabshakeh in an Embassage to King Hezekiah, who vomited out blasphemies, and proposed to him conditions shamefull to his reputation, and impossible to all his powers. All the people were in an affright, expecting nothing but fire and sword. The King covered with sackcloth implores the heavenly assistance, and sends the chief Counsellours of his State to the Prophet Isaiah, to turn away this scourge by his prayers. The holy man, in that confusion of affairs wherein one could not see one onely spark of light, encourages him, animates him, and promises him unexpected effects of the mercy of God. The Prophecy was not vain, for in one onely night the Angel of God killed an hundred fourscore and five thousand men in the Army of the Assyrians by a stroke from heaven and a de∣vouring fire, which reduced them to dust in their guild∣ed arms. This proud King was constrained to make an ignominious retreat, and being returned to Niniveh

the capitall city of his Empire, he was slain by his own children. This is a manifest example of the ami∣able protection of God over the Holy Court, who de∣fended his dear Hezekiah by the intercession of the Prophet as the apple of his eyes.

He expressed yet another singular favour to him in a great sicknesse, caused by a malignant ulcer, of which (according to the course of nature) he should have died: and therefore Isaiah went to see him, and without flattering him, brought him word of his last day, exhorting him to put the affairs of his State in order. This good King had a tender affection to life, and being astonished at that news, prayed God fer∣vently with a great profusion of tears, that he would have regard to the sincerity of his heart, and to the good services that he had done him in his Temple, and not to tear away his life by a violent death in the middle of its course. The heart of the everlasting Fa∣ther melted at the tears of that Prince, and he ad∣vertised Isaiah, who was not yet gone out of the Palace, to retread his steps, and carry him the news of his recovery.

He told him from God that he should rise again from that sicknesse, and within three dayes should go up to the Temple ro render his Thanks-giving. Fur∣ther, he promised him that his dayes should be aug∣mented fifteen years, and that he should see himself totally delivered from the fury of the Assyrians, to serve the living God in a perfect tranquility. The King was ravished at this happy news, and desired some sign of the Divine will to make him believe an hap∣pinesse so unhoped for. Isaiah for this purpose did a miracle, which since Joshua had not been seen nor heard, which was to make the Sun turn back, so that the shadow of the Diall which was in the palace, ap∣peared ten degrees retired, to the admiration and ra∣vishment of all the world. And to shew that the Prophet was not ignorant of Physick, he caused a Cataplasme composed of a lump of figs to be ap∣plyed to the wound of the sick man, whereby he was healed, and in three dayes rendred to the Temple.

This miracle was not unknown to the Babyloni∣ans, who perceived the immense length of the day in which it was done, and their Prince having heard the news of it, sent Embassadours to King Hezekiah to congratulate his health, and to offer him great pre∣sents; whereat this Monarch, that was of an easie na∣ture, suffered himself to be a little too much transported with joy, and out of a little kind of vanity made a shew of his treasures and of his great riches to those strangers; which served much to kindle their covetous∣nesse. And therefore the Prophet, who was never spa∣ring of his remonstrances to the King, rebuked him for that action, and fore-told him that he made Infidels see the great wealth that God had given him, through a vain glory which would cost him dear, and that ha∣ving been spectatours of his treasures they had a mind to be the masters of them, and that at length they should compasse their design, but that it should not be in his time. This Prince received the correction with patience, and took courage, hearing that the hail should not fall upon his head, passing over his to his childrens.

Manasses his son succeeded him, a Prince truly abo∣minable, who wiped out all the marks of the piety of his father, and placed Idols even in the very Temple of the living God. All that Idolatry had shown in sacriledges, cruelty in murders, impudence in all sort of wickednesses, was renewed by the perfidiousnesse of this man abandoned of God. Poor Isaiah that had governed the father with so much authority had no credit with the son; this tygre was incensed at the har∣monious consorts of the divine Wisdomes that spake by his mouth, and could no more endure the truth then serpents the odour of the vine.

Yet he desisted not to reprehend him, and to ad∣vertise him of the punishments that God prepared for his crimes; whereat this barbarous man was so much moved and kindled with fury, that he commanded that this holy old man that had passed the hundreth year, should be sawn alive by an horrible and extraordinary punishment.

O Manasses! cruell Manasses, the most infamous of tyrants, and the most bloudy of hang-men! this was the onely crime that the furies themselves even the most enraged should never have permitted to thy sal∣vagenesse. This venerable Master of so many Kings, this King of Prophets, this prime Intelligence of the State, this Seraphim, this instrument of the God of Hosts, to be used so barbarously at the Court by his own bloud, after so many good counsels, so many glori∣ous labours, so many Oracles pronounced, so many Di∣vine actions so worthily accomplished! All the Militia of heaven wept over this companion of the Angels, and the earth caused fountains to leap up to bedew her lips in the midst of her ardent pains. His Wisdome hath rendred him admirable to the Learned; his Life inimi∣table to the most Perfect; his Zeal adorable to the most Courageous; his Age venerable to Nature; and his Death deplorable to all Ages.

JEREMIAH.

BEhold the most afflicted of Holy Courtiers, a Prophet weeping, a Man of sorrows, an heart alwayes bleeding, and eyes that are never dry. He haunted not great men but to see great evils, and was not found at Court but to sing its Funerals, and to set it up a tomb.

Yet was he a very great and most holy person that had been sanctified in his mothers womb: that began to prophecy at the age of fifteen years; a spirit sepa∣rated from the vanities and the pretensions of the world, that was intire to God, that lived by the purest flames of his holy love, and quenched his thirst with his tears. He drank the mud of bad times, and found himself in a piteous Government in which there was little to gain, and much to suffer.

After that the cruell Manasses King of Judea had been spoiled of the Sceptre, and led prisoner into Baby∣lon, chained as a salvage beast, he was sensibly touched with his affliction, and made a severe repentance, being cast with his irons into a deep pit, where he converted himself to God, with bitter sorrows and roarings of heart that made him obtein a pardon of his sins, even so far as to restore him his Liberty and his Crown. He behaved himself exceeding well the rest of his dayes, destroying that which he had made, and repairing that which he had destroyed. But he left behind him a wic∣ked son, who having imitated him in his vices, followed him not in his repentance. It was the impious Amon, who was neverthelesse the father of the holy King Josi∣ah, who began to reign at eight years old, and was go∣verned by the good and salutary precepts of the Pro∣phet Jeremy who took him into a singular affection.

This good Prince consecrated the first fruits of his government by the extirpation of Idolatry, which he detested alwayes by words, and combated by an inde∣fatigable zeal. He never took any repose till he had caused the Idols in Jerusalem and in the neighbouring places to be beat down, plucking up all those abomina∣tions even by the root. He had sworn so capitall an en∣mity with impiety, that he persecuted the authours of it even to the grave which the condition of our mor∣tality seems to have made as the last sanctuary of na∣turall liberty, yet he caused the bones of those that had heretofore sacrificed to Idols to be burnt upon the same Altars as had been prophaned by them. After that he commanded that the Temple should be purged, and that the order of the sacrifices and of the praises of God should be there carefully observed.

The reading of a good book found in the Temple had so powerfully wrought upon him that he assem∣bled his people, and caused it to be read in presence of all the world, with fear and trembling at the threat∣nings conteined therein against the impious. Then he conjured all the company there present to renew in the sight of God the oath of fidelity, and to promise him never to depart from his Laws and his commandments, which was performed. There was a re-birth of a quite other world under the reign of this wise Prince that re∣joyced the heart of the Prophet Jeremy; but he tasted a little honey, to drink afterward a cup of wormwood.

Josiah was now come to the flower of his age and of his brave actions, having reigned more then thirty years in a mervellous policie and great tranquility, when Pharaoh Necho King of Egypt making war against the Assyrians would passe through Judea, which gave some fear to this good Prince as well for the oppression of his subjects that were menaced by the passage of a great army, as not to give cause of discontentment to the King of Assyria, and therefore he bestirrs himself to resist him and to oppose his passage.

It is the misery of little Princes to be engaged in the differences of greater ones, as between the Anvill and the Hammer; they cannot favour the Party of the one but they must render themselves the sworn enemies of the other, and Neutrality renders them suspected to both. It is a difficult passage, where whatsoever In∣dustry one brings to it, one often leaves behind the best feathers of his wings. Josiah without advertising the King of Assyria that the Party would not be main∣tainable if he sent not a powerfull Ayd, arms sudden∣ly against a mightier then himself. Necho sends to him his Embassadours to tell him that he meant no harm to his Person or to his State; that his design was against another King whom he went to combate by the orders of Heaven; that God was with him, and that if he endeavoured to stop his passage evil would betide him for it. Notwithstanding these pressing spee∣ches Josiah goes out to meet him, and as he was come to coping with his adversary, at the very beginning of the mingling he was wounded mortally with an arrow, and commanded his Coachman to draw him out of the combate, which he did, and as he was put in his second charriot which followed his charriot of war after the fa∣shion of Kings, he gave up the ghost without finding a∣ny remedy to divert the sharpnesse of that fatall stroke. His body was brought back to Jerusalem all bloudy, and the mournings for his death were so sensible and so piercing that it seemed as if there had been an univer∣sall sacking of the whole City.

Never Prince was so beloved, never any more pas∣sionately lamented, nor is there to be found any one a∣mong all the Kings of Judea that had lesse vices, and more zeal for the honour of God; his life was with∣out spot, his reputation without reproach, and to say truth, his goodnesse was as it were the breath that all the world did breathe. Poor Jeremy was so cast down at a death so suddain, that he lost all his joyes, and be∣gun then, according to S. Jerome, to make those sad la∣mentations that have engraved his grief on the memo∣ry of all men.

To question why so good a King after so many acti∣ons of Piety was killed by the hand of an Infidell, as an old suit that humane curiosity hath commenced a∣gainst providence from the begining of the world; Some (said Plinie) thrive by their wickednesse, and others are tormented even by their own Sacrifices: But who are we to think to draw the curtain of the Sanctuary before the time, and to know the reasons of all that God does, and permits in the world? For one virtuous Prince that is afflicted in the accidents of humane things, we shall find alwayes ten wicked ones that have ended miserably; and yet we cease not to quarrell with the or∣dination of heaven. By what contract is God to make his servants alwayes winne at play and war? Must he do perpetually miracles to make himself be thought what he is? What wrong did he do Josiah if, after a reign of one and thirty years, conducted with great suc∣cesses, and an universall approbation, he dy'd in the bed of valour defending his countrey and rendring proofs of the greatnesse of his courage? What injury was it to have given him the honour to carry the hearts of all his subjects to his grave, and to spread the glory of his name through all ages, and all the living? After that we have seen in histories 100 Tyrants dye, almost all in a row,

of hideous and bloudy deaths; we come again to King Manasses, who after he had shed so much bloud passed out of this life by a death peaceable enough; we return to Herod, and Tiberias, and to Mahomet, who died in their beds, as if they had been great Saints of fortune canonized by their happinesse.

Alas, what is the life of these and of their like! to be stabb'd every moment in the heart, and in the publick opinion; to be cursed of a million of mouths every hour of the day; to remain shut up in the en∣closure of a palace walls, as old owls, and to have no other pleasure but to make fire and bloud rain upon the heads of men! What contentment to wax pale at every flash of lightning; to tremble at every assault of the least disease; to prepare poisons and haltars for every change of fortune; to live for nothing but to make men die; and to die for nothing but to make the devils a spectacle of their pains! Is this it that deserves the name of felicity, and the admiration of the world?

After that Josiah had drawn tears from the eyes of all the Kingdome, the people honouring his me∣mory, set his son Jehoahaz upon the Throne, who reigned but three moneths, because that Nechoh puft up with his victory, that would not suffer them to think of making a King without his consent, came and fell upon Jerusalem, and carried him away prisoner into Egypt where he died of displeasure and bad usage. He took his brother Eliakim or Jehoiakim to put him in his place, and to make him reign under his authority. But Nebuchadonozor who esteemed himself the God of Kings could not endure that the Egyptian should intermeddle with giving Crowns, came to besiege Je∣rusalem with great forces, and having won it, carried away the miserable Jehoiakim captive into Babylon with the flower of the city, and the sacred vessels of the Temple when he reckoned yet but the third year of his reign.

It was a pitifull thing to see this infortunate King in chains after a dignity so short and so unhappy; but this so lamentable a change moved his adversary to compassion, who released him upon condition of a great annuall tribute. He discharged it for the space of three years by constraint, his heart and inclinations leaning alwayes towards Egypt, and never ceasing ta∣citely to contrive new plots. Besides, he so forsook the service of God, and abandon'd himself to the im∣piety of the Idolaters, that the admonitions and menaces of the Prophet Jeremy that had fore∣told him of a most tragicall issue had no power upon his spirit.

And therefore Nebuchadonozor returned the eleventh year of the reign of this unhappy King, and having conquered him again, caused him to be assassinated, and his body to be cast on the dunghill for a punish∣ment of his rebellion. He permitted his son Jehoiachin, otherwise Jechonias to succeed him; but scarce had this disastrous Prince reigned three moneths before this terrible Conquerour transported him, with his mother, his wives, and servants, and made him feel in Babylon the rigours of Captivity after he had robbed him of all his treasures, and drawn out of Jerusalem ten thou∣sand prisoners of the principall men of all Judea; so that this deplorable Realm was then between Egypt and Babylon as a straw between two impetuous winds incessantly tossed hither and thither without finding any place of consistence.

Nebuchadonozor made a King after his own fancy, and chose Zedekiah the uncle of Jehoiachin who was at last the most miserable of all the rest. Here it it that Jeremy received a good share of the sufferings of his dear countrey, and found himself intangled in very thorny businesses, in which he gave most excellent counsels that were little followed, so resolute were the King and Nobles to their own calamity. He had been very much troubled under the Reign of Jehoia∣kim: for as he was prophecying one day aloud of the ruine of the city of Jerusalem, and the entire desola∣tion of the Temple, the Priests seized upon his person, and caused the people to mutiny against him out of a design to make him be torn in pieces. But it chanced by good hap that some Lords of the Court ran to ap∣pease that tumult, before whom Jeremy justified him∣self, and protested that it was the Spirit of God that moved to fore-tell those sad disastres, for the correction of the sins of Jerusalem, and that the onely means to shelter themselves from the wrath of heaven, was seri∣ously to embrace repentance; and told them that it was in their hands to do him Justice, and that if they used him otherwise, they would shed innocent bloud that would rebound against them and the whole city. Those Courtiers judged that there was nothing in him worthy of death, and delivered him from the hands of those wicked Priests that were ready to assassi∣nate him; there being no persecution in the world like to that which comes from sacred persons when they abuse their dignity to the execution of their revenge.

After this shaking, command is given him again to hold his peace, and to remain shut up in a certain place without preaching or speaking in publick: which was the cause that he dictated from his mouth his thoughts and conceptions to Baruch his Secretary com∣manding him to read them in a full assembly of the people, which he did, without sparing the great and principall men to whom he communicated them, so that this passed even to the ears of King Jehojakim, who would needs see the book, and when he had read three or four pages of it, he cut it with a penknife, and cast it into the fire, commanding that Jeremy and his Secretary Baruch should be apprehended. But God made them escape, ordaining that that deplorable King that had despised his Word and the admonitions of his Prophet should fall into that gulf of miseries that had been fore-told him.

The same abominations ceased not under the Reign of Zedekiah, and Jeremy resumed also new forces to fight against them, and to publish the desolations that should suddenly bury that miserable Nation; then Pa∣shur one of the principall and of the most violent Priests caused the Prophet to be brought before him to repre∣hend him, for that he ceased not to fore-tell evils, and to torment all the world by his predictions. Whereupon he entred into so great a wrath against the innocent, that without having any regard to the decency of his dignity, he stroke him, and not content with that, caused him to be clapt in prison, and chains to be put upon him.

This Divine personage seeing himself reduced to that captivity for having brought the Word of God, and being left (as it were) to himself to do and suffer according to nature and humane passions, was seized with a great melancholy, and made complaints to God which parted not but from the abundance of love that he bare to him.

Ha! what! (said he) my God, have you then de∣ceived me? And who doubts but that you are stronger then I? Who am I to resist you? You have made me carry your word, and to speak boldly your adorable truths to Kings and Peoples, and for this I am hand∣led as an Imposture, and as the dreg of nature, and the reproach of the world. Behold what I have gain∣ed by serving you with so much obedience and fide∣lity. Often have I said by my self, I will obey the Magistrates, I will hold my peace, and remember no

more the thoughts that God reveals to me, nor speak any more in his name: but then I selt a fire boiling in my heart that was shut up in the marrow of my bones, and I fell into a swoon, and could not endure the vio∣lence of my thoughts without unloading my self by the tongue, and publishing that which you inspired in∣to me. And for this, behold me reduced to irons. And have I not good cause to say that which miserable men use to say, That the day of my nativity, in regard of originall sin, and so many calamities that spring from that source, is lamentable and cursed, and that it were to be wished that the womb of my mother that bare me had been my sepulchre? Wherefore did I come out of the bowels of a woman to be a spectatour of so many sorrows and so much confusion?

The Saints speak sometimes like men, according to the sense of the inferiour part of the soul, especially when they see themselves overwhelmed with great evils; but God raises them up immediately, and makes them resume the tongue of heaven.

As the Prophet was deploring his miseries in that dark prison, God gave lights and remorses to his persecutour that came the next day to deliver him, ei∣ther through some compassion, or because he had at∣tempted that beyond the limits of his authority. The prisoner instead of expressing some kind of weaknesse spake more boldly then before, fore-telling even to Pashur that he should be led captive into Babylon, and that he should die there, the other not daring to enter∣prise any thing against him.

After that very time, Jeremy betook himself to the Palace to speak with the King and with the Queen his wife, to advertise them of the utmost misery that mena∣ced their Crown, if they did not make an entire conver∣sion to God to give an example to their Subjects. Be∣sides this, he gave some State-counsel, and told the King, that since God had permitted that he should be subdued by the Arms of the King of Babylon that had put him on the Throne, and to whom he had pro∣mised Faith, Homage, and Tribute, he should do well to keep his promises inviolable, rather then to adhere to the King of Egypt, and expect the assistance of his Arms. This was the most important point of State, that concerned the safety of all the kingdome.

Neverthelesse, King Zedekiah, whose spirit was a little soft, hearkned to the advice, and took sometimes fire, but it was but for a little time, he being no way constant in his good resolves. When he saw himself menaced with a siege by the King of the Babylonians, he was affrighted, and inclined a little to his side; but assoon as he perceived that he diverted his arms another way, he brake his promised faith, being weary of the rigour of the Tributes that the other exacted of him. Thereupon, Jeremy ceased not to publish, that it was an errour to expect that the army of Pharaoh King of Egypt which was reported to be upon its march to help Jerusalem should do any good, that it should return upon its own steps without enterprising any thing: that Nebuchadonozor was not so farre off, but that in a small time he would render himself before the city to besiege and win it: That it was a decree of God, and although the Army of the Chaldeans should be defeated, yet those that remained (though wounded and sick) should be sufficient to take Jerusalem aban∣doned of the Divine protection.

When he had spoken this publickly, he resolved to retire himself for a time, and to go into the countrey; but he was taken at the gate of the city by Irijah that accused him falsly, and said that he was going to render himself to the army of the Chal∣deans; whereupon, he carried him under a good guard to the Magistates; who having beaten and ill used him, sent him to prison, where he remained many dayes without consolation.

At last, the King having heard of what had hap∣pen'd to him, caused him to come secretly to him, and spake to him, to conjure him to tell the truth, whether those Predictions that he ceased not to sow in the ears of all the world were Revelations from God; whereof the Prophet assured him again, and gave him some good incitement to incline to the most wholesome counsels. Poor Jeremy seeing this Prince use him kind∣ly, said unto him,

Alas, Sir, what have I done, and in what have I offended your Majesty to be used as a rogue by those that usurp your authority? What crime have I committed by telling you the truth? Where are your false Prophets that said, that there was no need to fear the coming of Nebuchadonozor, and that he had other businesse to dispatch? is he not at length come to verifie my Prophecies? Since you do me the honour at present to hear me, My Lord and my Master, hearken to my most hum∣ble request, and grant me a courtesie that I de∣sire of you in the Name of God, which is, that I may no more return into the prison out of which your Majesty hath caused me to be drawn; for, the continuation of the evils that I have suffered there is able suddenly to tear my soul from my body, and it will be but a grief to you to deliver me to death for having given you counsels of life and safety.

The King was softned by the words of the Prophet, but he was so timorous that he durst not take the boldnesse to cause a prisoner to be delivered by his ab∣solute authority, fearing the reproaches and out-cryes of those that would have the upper end in all af∣fairs. He caused onely the goaler to be bid to use him a little kindlier, taking him out of the black dun∣geon, to give him a place more reasonable, and to have a care that in that great famine of the city he should not want bread.

This was executed, and he staid some time at the entrance of the prison with a little more liberty, during which, he spake again to those that visited him, and said freely, That there was no way to escape the sacking of the city, but by rendring themselves to the Chaldeans. This made Pashur and his com∣plices incensed again with a great wrath, and speak insolently to the King, that Jeremy might be delivered to them, publishing that he was worthy of death, that he was a seditious fellow that did nothing but make the people mutiny, and separate them from their obedience to him.

The miserable Zedekiah that had let these men take too high an ascendent upon his person had not strength of spirit enough to resist them, but against his consci∣ence abandoned his poor Prophet to them, although it was with some regret. These wicked men having taken him, let him down with cords into a deep pit of the prison, which was full of mire and filth, where he expired the remainder of his deplorable life, and had dyed there of miseries, if God had not raised him up a protectour, of whom he never so much as dreamed.

There was in the Kings house a famous officer, an Ethiopian by Nation, and a man of heart, who hear∣ing of the cruelty that was used against the Prophet, took pity on him, and said boldly to the King, What (Sir?) can your Majesty well approve of the rigours that poor Jeremy is made to suffer for doing the function of a Prophet? It well appears that his ene∣mies would have his skin, for they have let him down with ropes into a deep dungeon, where it

is almost impossible to breathe. There is danger if this good man dyes by this ill usage that you are guilty of his death, and that this may draw some wrath of God upon your Majesty. He spake this with so good an ac∣cent, that the King was moved, and gave him charge to take thirty souldiers, and to draw him thence, which he did quickly, casting down to him old linnen raggs to put under him, that he might not be galled by the cords when they should make him ascend out of the bottome of that hideous prison.

When he was plucked up again the King had ano∣ther time the curiosity to see him, not in his Palace but in some secret place of the Temple, where Jeremy spake to him with much fervency and tendernesse telling him that the onely means to save his person, his house, and all the City was to render up himself to Nabuchodono∣sor, and that if he refused to do it, he and all his would be destroyed. The King answered that he was afraid to commit himself to the King of Babylon, lest he should deliver him to his rebellious subjects that had fallen from him to the enemy. Jeremy replyed, That he need not fear any such thing, and affectionately beseech'd him to have pity on his own soul, on his wife and on his children for otherwise there would happen a great misery. This poor Prince feared to attempt this against the opinion of those that governed him, and to scatter them by this means from his party. Nay he was afraid even to be seen with Jeremy, and recommended to him very much to keep secret that discourse, and to tell no body that he had spoken to him about State affairs. He was sent back to Prison that he might not make the se∣ditious mutiny, and all that he could obtein, was, not to be plunged again in that pit from whence he had been delivered.

In the mean while Nabuchodonosor after a long siege carryed the city of Jerusalem which was taken about mid-night, the enemies being entred by a breach that no body perceived. Zedekiah much amazed betakes himself to flight with his wife and children, and a few men of war about him, taking his way through night, darknesse, affrights, fear, and a thousand images of death. The Chaldeans had notice of his retreat, and caught him on the plains of Jericho, where he was im∣mediately forsaken of his men, and left with his wives and little children that sent out pitifull cryes through the apprehension of servitude and death.

He was carried away from thence to Riblah, where Nabuchodonosor was expecting the issue of that siege. This unfortunate Prince was constrained to present himself before the frightfull countenance of a barbarous King puffed up with his victories and prosperities, who loaded him with reproaches and confusions, up∣braiding him with his rebellion, his ingratitude and unfaithfulnesse: he would willingly have been ten foot under ground before he suffered such indignities, think∣ing himself sufficiently punished, by having lost his crown and liberty.

But this cruell Conquerour would give other satis∣factions to his revenge; for after he had a long time di∣gested his gall, and thought on the means that he would use to punish him, he causes his children to come before him, and commands the Hangmen to murther them in the fathers sight. These poor little ones seeing the glit∣tering sword now ready to be plunged in their bloud cryed out for mercy, and called pitifully upon the sad name of their father that had no other power but to suffer his calamity. The sword passes throught the bodies of his children to find his heart who dyed as many deaths as nature had given him gages of his marriage.

He expected that the sword stained with the bloud of his dear progeny should have ended his life and griefs; but this inhumane Tyrant having left him as much light as was needfull to illuminate his misery, af∣ter that he had filled himself with this lamentable spe∣ctacle, caused his eyes to be plucked out by an execrable cruelty, and having commanded him to be put in great and heavie chains caused him to be carried into Baby∣lon where he ended his miserable life; and in his Person ended the Kingdome of Judea that had subsisted since Saul four hundred and fourscore years.

Nabuchodonosor having heard the narration that was made of Jeremy and the good counsell that he had given to his King esteemed him highly, and gave charge to Nebuzaradan the Generall of his Army to give him content, whether he had a mind to go to Babylon, or whether he would stay in his own countrey. But to shew he sought not the splendour of greatnesses, he chose to make his abode amidst poor Labourers and Vine-dresses that were left after the sacking of the City, the better sort being transported into Babylon.

He was recommended to Gedaliah who was settled Governour of those miserable Reliques of the people by Nebuzaradan; but when this Gedaliah was mur∣thered seven moneths after his creation, Johanan that was one of the principall men, counselled the Jews to quit that miserable land, and to follow him into Egypt. Jeremy opposed it, and foretold misery to all those that should go thither; but instead of believing him they dragged him along by force either to afflict him, or to prevail over his Prophecyes. He failed not to pro∣phesy the desolation of Egypt that was to bend under the arms of Nabuchodonosor, whereat his countrey∣men found themselves incensed, and fearing lest he should draw some envy on them, stoned him in a sedi∣tion. The Egyptians hearing talk of the life and pre∣dictions of this great personage made account of him, and set him up a Tomb, where God to honour his ser∣vant did great miracles, chasing away by his ashes the Crocodiles and serpents. Alexander that flourished two hundred years after him admiring those wonders caused his reliques to be transported into Alexandria, where he caused a magnificent Sepulchre to be erected for him, as the Alexandrian Chronicle reports. Behold how virtue persecuted in its own house finds a prop with strangers, and even veneration amongst the Infi∣dels; God using all sorts of instruments to honour the merits of those that have rendered him proofs of a perfect faithfulnesse.

S. JOHN Baptist. S. PAUL.

[illustration]

[illustration] portrait of St. John the Baptist

S^t. IOHN BAPTIST

[illustration] portrait of St. Paul

S^t. PAVL APOSTLE

WHat makes an Hermit at the Court, a Solitary man in a Tumult, a Sacred amongst Prophane, a Saint in the house of Herod? He was far more secure amongst Wolves, amongst Foxes and Tygers, then amongst those wicked Courtiers. He was more contented with his little dinner of Locusts and wild Honey, retired in his Cabben, then at the fight of the pomps and pleasures of the King of Galilee. But God that is the Master of Kings and the Directour of Hermites hath thus disposed of him, and willed that he should dye at Court after he had so long a time lived in the wildernesse.

It is not certainly known what occasion drove him to it, whether he went thither by zeal, or whether he was sent for by design, or whether he was forced by vi∣olence. Some think that the miseries of his countrey afflicted under the government of a dissolute Prince, affecting him with a great Compassion, He went out of the desert, of his own accord to admonish the king of his duty, Since that all those that came neer him, and that were obliged to speak to him were mute, part∣ly by a servitude fatall to all those that are tyed to the hopes of the world, and partly also being seized with fear by reason of the power and cruelty of a womans spirit that possessed Herod. Others, as Josephus, have written that the Prince hearing every day of the great concourse of all sorts of people that went to the wil∣dernesse to see Saint John, was afraid lest under colour of piety this might make some change of State. Ty∣rants love not men endowed with an extraordinary virtue, and that have not learnt the trade of flattering, their voyce is the Cock that frights those cruell Ly∣ons; their life is a flash of Lightning that dazles their Eyes; their actions are as many Convictions of their Iniquity. And therefore this Authour saith; that without other form of processe, Herod caused him to be apprehended, to prevent him and break off those assemblies that were made about him.

Yet it is probable and more consonant to the Scri∣pture (which assures us that this Prince bare some re∣spect to John, and heard him, and did many things ac∣cording to his advice) that he proceeded not against him at first with so much violence. But the cunning Fox (as he was, according to the judgement that the Eternall Truth made of him,) seeing that Saint John was in an high esteem for holinesse, and in great credit amongst the people, strived to winne him, and to draw him to him, to make himself be reputed for a good Prince that cherished honest men, and to main∣tain by this means his authority that was already rot∣tering, and little rooted in the true Maximes of a good Government. It was thus that Dionysius the Tyrant made use of the Philosophers, not for any affection that he bare them, but to appropriate them to the bad intentions that he had in State, and to give them some colour by the expresse or interpreted approbation of those personages that were in reputation for their wis∣dome. But Herod did ill choose his man; this was not a Court-flatterer, a Tool for all Trades, a Shoe for all Feet, but a stiffe and austere man, to whom a whole World would not have given the least temptation to do any thing against his conscience.

It would be a superfluous thing to enlarge ones self at length upon the rare qualities of Saint John, who having been many times highly commended by the Creatour of Virtues, and the Distributour of true praises, who hath preferred him above the greatest of the world, seems to have dryed up by his abundance the Elogies of the most eloquent. Let us content our selves to say that there are abundance of excellencies in him, enough to make all chaires speak, and all pens write even to the end of the world.

He was born of the blood of Aaron the brother of Moses, the first ornament of the Priesthood, and the great Conductour of the People. He came out of a barren Womb which he rendered fruitfull above all fe∣cundities of the earth. His birth was declared mira∣culously by the voyce of an Archangell. He was san∣ctified almost as soon as conceived, and virtue appro∣priated him to her self before that nature had brought

him to the Light. He was a worshipper of the word when he was yet in the bowels of his mother, and re∣ceived the first rayes of the everlasting day before that his eye was open to the brightnesse of the Sun. Reason was advanced to him by a wonder altogether extraor∣dinary. He hath had this honour, to know first, after the Virgin Mary, the news of that high mystery of the Incarnation, and of the Redemption of the world. Of all the Nativities of so many children of Adam, the Church celebrates none but that of John, who hath this common with our Saviour and his most holy Mo∣ther, who by a speciall priviledge honoured his birth by her actuall presence; So that he saw his first day un∣der the aspect of the Mother of the Universe. His name was given him by an Archangell, a name of grace and favour, that shewed he was placed in the ranke of the dearest delights of Heaven, and the tongue of his dumb Father tyed by an heavenly virtue, was loosed by its power, that it might pronounce that fair name. He was exempted from grievous sins, and (as many Divines hold) even from veniall. He consecra∣ted his retirement in the Desert almost as soon as he en∣tered into the world. Farthermore he was a Prophet, and more then a Prophet, a Virgin, a Doctour, a fore∣runner of the Son of God, the Trumpet of Repen∣tance, the Authour of a Baptisme (that ushered in that which regenerates us all) whereof Jesus was pleased to receive the sprinckling. In fine, he was the Horizon of the Gospel and the Law, and the first that shewed with the finger the Lamb of God, and the Kingdome of Heaven.

But let us make no reckoning of what I have al∣leaged, but let us say onely that which the word hath said of him, That he was not a Reed to bow at every wind, nor a man that could be allured by the delicacies of the Court; He spake there, as a Pro∣phet, he conversed there as an Angell, and at last dyed there as a Martyr. The time furnished him with an occasion, about which he could not speak without making much noyse, and he could not hold his peace without betraying his Conscience.

That Herod Antipas, which we are to speak of here, was the sonne of the great Herod the Mur∣therer of the Innocents and of a Samaritan woman, who after the death of his Father (forasmuch as the Legitimate issue of Mariamne had been unworthi∣ly murthered to make way for unjust heirs) had for his part of the Kingdome of Judea Galilee, which he held in quality of a Tetrarch. He was a Prince of a small courage, addicted to his pleasures, lascivious and loose, that endeavoured to preserve himself by poor shifts, having nothing stout nor warlike in his person.

He had a brother named Philip, which held ano∣ther parcell of that Kingdome of Judea dismembred and little enough considerable, the Romans having pos∣sessed themselves of the best part of it after they had deposed Archelaus that had reigned as Successour of his Father in quality of a King. Philip was mar∣ried to Herodias the daughter of his brother Aristo∣bulus, and by consequence his Niece; those Mar∣riages being ordinary enough in the Court of Herod. The Husband was a sweet and moderate spirit, that kept his small Government very peaceable, and plea∣sed himself with rendering Justice to his people with so much ardour that he often stayed his Chariot by the way, and heard the differences of the meanest people to reconcile them. But the Wife quite cantra∣ry was an Haughty, Ambitious, Turbulent, Im∣modest spirit, that was not content with what God had given her, but tryed by all means to become Queen.

It happened that Herod Antipas under colour of a progresse or recreation went to visit his brother Phi∣lip who received him in his Palace with all curtesi•• and sincerity. He amused himself in the abode that he made there, to cajoll that Her••••as his sister i•• Law, that needed not much courting to be brought i•• Love, so fickle was her disposition and so desirous still of Novelties.

They found that Antipas was not pleased with his Wife, nor Herodias with her Husband; they make an audacious and irregular complot, which was to se∣perate themselves from their Mates under colour of a divorce, and to marry themselves together. Herod promised her, that he would go to Rome and make her Queen, which she could never hope for of her Hus∣band, who (he told her) was a man without heart, and born onely to converse with inferiour people. He made himself a brave man at his Sword, Rich, Vali∣ant, Happy, Magnificent; and his body was not ill made, so that this false marriage is concluded be∣tween the parties, and it is not known whether it be∣gan then by a clandestine adultery. Their privacies were but too remarkable: so that Herod's wife that was the daughter of Arethas King of Arabia had an inkling of them; and dissembling her thoughts, wrote to the King her father, that she could no longer live with a dissolute husband, that had no affection to her, and that violating the faith plighted in marriage, had made a promise to an adulteresse to espouse her. Her Fa∣ther was greatly exasperated at this affront, expressing that he was ready to receive her to his Court, and counselled her to steal away warily from her Husband; which she did prudently enough asking leave of him to take a little journey to the Castle of Macheron which was upon the frontier to recreate her self. This was ve∣ry freely granted her; and in the mean while she or∣ders her fathers men to carry her away into Arabia. Yet shee needed not to have studied her flight, and to have made a mystery of it, since her husband had no great mind to runne after her, but had given her much annoyance out of a design to weary her, and to make her escape from him of her own accord, to have an ex∣cuse to the King her father when he should complain of him.

This departure of the Arabian suddain and medi∣tated, came to the ears of Herod and Herodias, who made Bonfires of joy at it in their hearts, and belie∣ved that it was an overture that Heaven had given them, to the accomplishment of their design. The wicked woman quits Philip her Husband and comes into Galilee to lodge in the Palace of her brother bringing with her a shamelesse daughter, whom the deportments of the mother made men believe not to have appertained by good right to her husband. Jose∣phus, out of whom we have in part taken this History doth not tell us whether the good Philip was much troubled for his wife, but her insolent spirit makes us believe that he had no great reason to lament her. This coming was coloured at first with the pretence of a visit that she gave her brother in Law; but at last the busi∣nesse came to light, and to cover the scandall of it, a divorce was to be protested, and a marriage feigned. Herod had no want of flatterers and servile spirits at his Court that found out reasons to colour so great a crime.

He would have much desired that Saint John would have approved it, or that staying near him without speaking a word, his silence would have made the peo∣ple believe that he was not upon tearms of disappro∣ving it. But this was to judge too basely of so high a virtue. The holy man resolutely tells him, that it was not permitted him to marry his brothers wife; that it

was an Adultery, and an odious incest in the sight of God, and scandalous to all his Subjects. He adver∣tised him of the obligations of the Law, whereof he made profession, of the examples of the good Kings that had preceded him, of the chastisements of the wicked that had falt the weight of Divine justice. He laid before his eyes how States passed from one hand to another by Injustice, Iniquity, Impiety and the filthinesse of those that Governed ill. He put also in∣to his admonition the contempt of God, that was dreadfull above all things, the interests of his bro∣ther, the ill example that he would give his family, the speeches of his people, the judgements even of stranger Kings, and as it is credible forgat nothing of all the considerations that were worthy to be represen∣ted to him.

The spirit of Herod was not altogether bad, nor, as yet forsaken of God; He heard Saint John, and conceived sometimes a remorse of his fault. But as soon as he had seen Herodias he remembred no more any of those advertisements, and durst not expresse that he had so much as any scruple of his marriage, So imperiously did this cunning woman carry him. She knew at last what the man of God had spoken, and was transported with a fury that suffered her not to breathe any other thing but revenge and menaces.

She laid hold of an opportunity to her advantage, and seeing this Prince besotted with her Love, and in a condition to deny nothing to her inticements informed him (as far as one may guesse) that John was very dangerous to the welfare of the State, and that that great deluge of people that he drew after him spake nothing good; and that if he were a crafty man, as he seemed to be, he would be able to raise a sedition for the interest of his ambition, and if he were but simple, which she did not imagine, there would enough be found with him every day that would abuse that simplicity; that it was a great arrogance in him to find fault with the alliances of his marriage, and to disallow of that, which so many others, as good men as he, had appro∣ved of; that she saw plainly that this tended to his ru∣ine, and that if Saint John could bring about what he aimed at, she should be good for nothing but to be cast to Doggs, and that that was not the recom∣pence that she expected of her love and faithfulnesse towards him after she had despised every thing for the price and esteem of his contentment.

She ceased not to beat upon the Princes ears with such like words, and to breed a distrust in him of Saint John, in such a manner as that he consented that he should be apprehended and put in prison under colour, as Josephus saith, that he went about to change the peoples minds, and to embroil the State. This detain∣ing of a man so holy and so renowned made a great noyse through all Judea, but the wicked woman had this maxime, That one ought to take ones pleasure to content nature, and little to trouble ones self at the o∣pinions of the world below, nor at the complaints of honest men, judging that all mouthes ought to be stopped by the rigour of punishments, and that she should be innocent when no body durst any more find fault with her actions.

She slept not one good sleep with her Herod as long as Saint John was yet alive, but fearing alwayes either that her pretended husband whom she thought light enough, might be softned with compassion to release him, or that the people that held him for a Saint, might break open the prisons to take him thence, she resolved to see the end of him to give all liberty to her unbridled passions.

She watches the opportunity of Herods birth-day, on which he was accustomed to make feasts and to inter∣tein the principall Officers of his Kingdome. This crafty woman tampered with all the wills of those that had any power over his spirit for this design, and seeing that her daughter was a powerfull instrument to move that effeminate Prince, and that he was extraor∣dinarily pleased to see her dance, conjured her to em∣ploy all her genius and all her industry, all the baits, allurements, and gentilesses that she had in dancing, to gain the Kings heart, and that if she saw him very freely merry, and on terms to gratifie her with some great advantage, she should take heed of asking any thing but the head of John, and that he was necessa∣rily to fall, if she would not see her mother perish and all her fortunes overthrown.

The daughter obeyed, and fits her self even to per∣fection to please the Princes eyes; she enters into the banqueting house richly deck'd, and makes use of a dance not vulgar, whereat he was ravished, and all the Guests (that were perhaps hired by Herodias to commend her) made a wonderfull recitall of her per∣fections. There was nothing now remaining but to give her the recompence of her pains. This daughter of iniquity and not of nature, sayes Chrysologus, see∣ing that every one applauded her, and that the King, that was no longer his own man, would honour her with some great present which he would remit to her own choyse, even as far as to give her the moity of his Kingdome, if she would have desired it, made a bloudy request, following the instructions of her wic∣ked mother, and required that instantly S. Johns head should be given her in a plate.

Herod felt his heart pricked with a repentance pier∣cing enough, but because he had sworn in presence of the Nobles of his Kingdomes to deny nothing that she should ask would not discontent her, but gives com∣mand to the Master of his House to go to the prison and to cut off S. Johns head, to put it in the hands of this wanton wench. As soon as the word was pronoun∣ced, her mother was not quiet till she saw the execution of it; to Prison they run; every one thought that it had been for some grace, since that it was upon the nick of the feast of the Nativity of the King; but they quickly saw an effect quite contrary to that thought, when S. John was called for and told that he must re∣solve to dye.

What, think we, did this divine forerunner do at this last moment that remained to him of so innocent a life! but render thanks to God that made him dye a Mar∣tyr for the truth, after he had inlightned his eyes with the visible presence of the Incarnate Word which per∣mitted him not to have any thing left in this world to be desired. He exhorted his disciples to range them∣selves about our Saviour, who was the Way, the Life, and the Truth. He prayed for his persecutours, and for the easing of the miseries of his poor people; afterward having a relish of the first contentments of his felicity by the tranquility of his spirit, he yielded his neck to the hangman. His body was honourably buried by his disciples, and his head brought in a plate to that cru∣ell feast, put into the hands of that danceresse, who presented it to her mother; and the mother, according to S. Jerome, made a play-game of it, pricking the tongue with the needle of her hair.

All that one can speak is below the horrour of its spectacle, sayes S. Ambrose, The head of S. John, of the Prime man of the world, that had shut up the Law, that had opened the Gospel, the head of a Pro∣phet, of an Angell, is outrageously taken off and de∣livered for the salary of a danceresse. The soberest of men is massacreed in a feast of drunkards, and the cha∣stest, by the artifice of a prostitute. He is condemned on an occasion and on a time in which he would not

even have been absolved, as abhorring all that procee∣ded from intemperance. O how dangerous is it then to offend a woman that hath renounced her honour! Herod gave her an homicide for a kisse. The hang∣men wash their hands when they are ready to sit down at table, but these unhappy women pollute theirs in the banquet with a Prophets bloud; The righteous slain by adulterers, the innocent by the guilty, the true judge by criminall souls. This banquet that should have been the source of life brings an edict of death. Cruelty is mingled with delights, and pleasure with fu∣nerals. This horrible plate is carried through all the table for the satiating of those unhumane eyes, and the bloud that drops yet from his veins falls upon the pavement to be licked up with the ordures of that infa∣mous supper. Look upon it, Herod, look upon a deed that was worthy of none but thy Cruelty; stretch out thine hand, put thy fingers in the wound that thou hast made that they may be again bedewed with a bloud so sacred. Drink, cruell man, drink that river which thou seest glide to quench thy thirst. Look upon those dead eyes that accuse thy wickednesse, and which thou dost wound again with the aspect of thy filthy plea∣sures. Alas! they are shut not so much by the necessity of death as by the horrour of thy luxury.

The vengeance of God delayed not long to fall up∣on those perverse souls that had committed so enour∣mous a crime. Arethas King of the Arabians, resent∣ing the affront that had been given to his daughter by those Adulterers, enters in arms upon the lands of He∣rod, who bestirrs himself but weakly to resist him. Pleasures held him so fast chained that he had not the boldnesse to go to his frontiers in person to oppose his adversary; but contented himself with sending a Co∣lonell that lost the battell hazarded against the Arabi∣an; and this miserable King was in the way to have been deprived of all his Kingdomes, if the Romans had not intervened, who would not permit Arethas to make himself great in their vicinity. Some while after happened the passion of our Saviour, who as we know, was presented to this Herod; but by reason that there was no Herodias to urge him then to mur∣ther, he contented himself with the mockeries and de∣risions of his person. He thought from that time for∣ward to enjoy a great quietnesse, but the justice of God that punishes exemplarily the violences that are committed against his servants raised him up a strange Catastrophe,

His wife that spurred him incessantly with ambition perswaded him to take a journey to Rome to make himself great by the favour of the Romans, and to bear openly in his Titles the name of King. But he was much amazed that young Agrippa his Kinsman had supplanted him, and found so much favour with the Emperour Claudius that he gave him the King∣dome of Herod Antipas, with the other of Philip that was now deceased, and sent him into Judea with the name of King, and with good Patents to authorize his Election. And forasmuch as concerns this mur∣therer of the Prophet, having been accused of much insolencie and cowardise, the Edict of the Prince banished him to Lyons, so that he was like the Cam∣mell in the fable, that for having asked for horns of Ju∣piter lost his ears. The Emperour let Herodias know that he intended not to comprehend her in the Edict, but that he permitted her to stay in the Countrey. Yet she was so constant in a wicked friendship, that she answered, That since she had been a companion of her husband in prosperity, she would by no means a∣bandon him in adversity, and that she had rather be banished with him then have a Kingdome with ano∣ther man that should not be according to her heart. She was left to do after her own head, and both of them set forth to go to exile, accompanied with that little wanton, which, according to Nicephorus, passing over a frozen River fell in before she was aware, the Ice melting under her feet. She hung a long time in this snare, moving her self up and down as if she would have danced, in such a sort as that her neck was cut off by a razour of Ice, and her life stifled under the waters, to make an honorable revenge to the holy fore∣runner of Jesus Christ. Herod Antipas and his He∣rodias were overwhelmed with poverty, with misery, and with ignominy in a strange land, offering up a long sacrifice of their pains to divine vengeance without ever recovering either liberty or safety.

Saint PAUL and SENECA In the COURT of NERO.

BEhold here a theatre and a spectacle wor∣thy of Saints, of Philosophers, and of Kings; the meeting of Paul with Seneca in the Court of Cesar. The Doctour of the Nations with the most knowing man in the Universe. The wisdome of the Crosse with that of Philosophy. The birth of the Roman Church in the Bloud and in the Flames of Martyrs. The Gospel preached in a City which was the gulf of corruption; and which is more admirable, the Habitation of Chri∣stians in the Palace of Nero. To understand aright the greatnesse of our Christianity, the force of the Go∣spel, the combats of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, the Triumphs and the Majesty of the Church; It is need∣full to represent unto you an Idaea of the estate of this chiefest City of the world, and the wicked manners which those two great Apostles observed in it, to root them out, and to cause a people to be born anew, rege∣nerate in the Bloud of their Saviour.

It seemeth, that S. Paul in his Epistle to the Ro∣mans hath undertaken to describe the inordinate life of Nero, and of those in his Court who did conform them∣selves to his example to partake of his favours. He * 1.1 speaketh of some men who were faln into a reprobate sense, and who had changed the order of nature, and their sex, by most infamous lusts, being filled with all Iniquity with Riot, Covetousnesse, Detraction, Envy, Murder, Debate, Deceit, and Malice, Whispering, Despitefull, Cursing, Proud, Arrogant, Inventers of evil things, Disobedient to their parents, without Un∣derstanding, without Order, without Affection, with∣out Fidelity, without Compassion: And this most clearly is manifested in all the deportments of this most infamous Emperour, who was the monster of men. And we of necessity must affirm, that it is the manifest choler of heaven, and a scourge, enough to exterminate mankind from the earth, when a wicked and a licentious life is joyned with the heighth of Power, which giveth as much force to wickednesse as it takes off from the strength and execution of the Laws. It is not my design to stretch forth that in words which might be spoken of Nero, but to make a short Collection of the manners of his own person and his Court, that the Readers might observe on what stuffe Seneca and S. Paul did work, and what were their proceedings and successe.

In the seven and thirtieth year of our Saviour, this * 1.2 Prince (fatall to the ruine of the Empire) was born on the fifth of December, betwixt seven and eight of the clock in the morning; he came into the world with his feet foremost, contrary to the order of nature; he took all the vices of his ancestours, and did partake of none of all their virtues. On the fathers side he was descen∣ded from the Domitians sirnamed Barbarossae, whom the Romans vulgarly called Brasse-beards; and it was one of his ancestours unto whom the Oratour in choler did reply, That it was no marvel that he had a Beard of Brasse, since Nature had given him a Mouth of Iron, and a Heart of Lead. His grandfather was a fiery man, cruel, and prodigall, and so amorous of Playes, that he caused the Ladies of Rome to ascend the Theatre, and to act the Comedies themselves. He gave also the combate of the Gladiatours, performed with so much cruelty, that Augustus Cesar was con∣strained to stop it by his Edicts. His father Domitius was detestable over all his life, insolent, furious, who with his own hand did stab one of his Free-men to death, because he would not be drunk; and in the pride of heart made his caroach to passe over a little child in the street; and quarrelling with a Knight of Rome, he caused one of his eyes to he pulled out. Besides his cruelty, he was a man without faith, without probity, without honesty, who deceived all his creditours, mocked all the world, and secretly abused his own sister. His wife was named Agrippina she was daugh∣ter to Germanicus of the Bloud of the Cesars, but of an evil spirit, and prostituted to all manner of vices. And it is no marvel, that Domitius father to Nero, (when much joy was wished him on the birth of his son) did make answer, that there needed not such accla∣mations, for nothing could be born from him and Agrippina, but what should be pernicious to the Empire. Not long after, this unfortunate man did die, consumed with diseases that attended his filthy life, and left behind him his son three years of age, who saw his mother banished, and being destitute of means was brought up in the house of his Aunt Lepida, under the discipline of a dancer and a barber who did corrupt his spirit with the first impressions of vice, which from his birth he was too much disposed to receive. The times changing, his mother returned into favour, and by her charms prevailed upon the spirit of the Empe∣rour Claudius the successour of Caligula, a simple and * 1.3 a stupid man, who espoused this dangerous woman, who afterwards poisoned him by a potion, and so pla∣ced her own son on the Throne of the Cesars. And although the Astrologians had fore-told her that he should be Emperour and withall the murderer of his mother, she made nothing of it, and thought it no hard bargain to buy the Empire with her own bloud, say∣ing, Let him reign, and let him kill me.

By the artifice of this wicked woman, Nero was saluted Emperour in the seventeenth year of his age with a marvellous applause, and in the publick accla∣mations honoured with all great Names and specious Titles, all which he received, saving onely that of Fa∣ther of his Countrey, saying, He was too young to have so many children. He was very tractable in his youth, upright, gentle, discreet, well-spoken, and demean'd himself for the first five years very worthily under the conduct of Seneca. But when he approached to the one and twentieth year of his age, the ingredients of vice, which, with his birth he brought into the world, the base education in his infancy, the heat of his youth, the delights of the Court, and (which is the greatest of all temptations) the Power to do all, did weigh down the Philosophy and the Instructions of Seneca, who proved by experience, That there is nothing more diffi∣cult then to perswade those to virtue whom too much Power had put in the possession of all vices. His de∣boistnesse began by the ill examples which he learned in his infancy, which were altogether unbeseeming his person: he became a Tumbler, a Puppet-player, a Co∣median, a Waggoner, a Songster, and a Minstrel, not for Recreation but to make a publick Profession of it, to dispute with the Masters of those Faculties, and to abandon all the affairs of Peace and Warre to be va∣cant to those exercises, insomuch, that he made it more to out-act a Comedian on the stage, then to gain a Bat∣tle in the field. He was also a night-walker, and gave,

and sometimes received many sore blows which did not permit him to passe unknown.

From hence he laid himself open to most extrava∣gant profusenesse, insomuch, that he gave to Tumblers the patrimonies of Consuls, and made the funeralls of some inconsiderable men to equall the Magnificence of the Obsequies of Kings; he never did wear the most gorgeous garments longer then one day. He did build his Palaces with so much cost, as if he would dispend on them onely all the wealth of Rome. When he tra∣velled, he would be followed with a thousand ca∣roaches, and his mules were all shod with silver. He made his halls after the form of the firmament, where the vault being of gold intermingled with azure, and illuminated with counterfeit starres did roul continu∣ally over his head, and rained on him showers of flow∣ers, and waters of a most exquisite smell. There would he dine from noon till midnight in the riot of execrable services. He had a touch in his tender age of the vices of wantonnesse, luxury, avarice and cruelty, but being in the beginning it was with some shame concealed in private.

But in the end he took off that mask by an open and inordinate dissolutenesse, which knew no restraint. He was of belief that there was not one chaste person in the world, and took great pleasures in those who did repeat their filthinesse to him. There was never man more abandoned to all manner of uncleannesse without distinction of kindred, sex, time, place, or man-hood. There was not one part in all his body that was not sacrificed to dishonesty: his polluted spi∣rit made him invent those abominations which are not to be indured by chaste ears, and with which I will not defile my paper.

The excesse of his insolencies did at last render him odious to those who were most near unto him, and when they gently told him of his extravagancies, he would leap into a fury, and made a crime of their vir∣tue who did best advise him. He filled up the ap∣prenticeship of his enormities with the death of Bri∣tannicus, a young Prince the sonne of the Emperour * 1.4 Claudius, and brother to his wife Octavia, in which he imployed the most famous Sorceresse of Rome na∣med Locusta who prepared the poyson, and made an assay of it before him on a sucking pig who died im∣mediately: now finding it for his turn, caused it to be served to his brother as he dined at the table with him. The malignity of the poyson was so piercing, that in an hour after, he fell dead at the feet of his mother and his sister, who were both present at this tragick spectacle. Nero, to excuse himself, said, That it was the effect of a great sicknesse to which he had been subject from his cradle, and that they ought to be of comfort. But the Princesses concealing their ima∣gination for fear of provoking his rage, did manifestly perceive that he sowed those seeds of his murder which he would afterwards continue in his Family.

It is almost impossible to believe the tender affecti∣on * 1.5 with which he prosecuted his mother Agrippina. He sometimes did give to the souldiers that did guard his body for their word, The good Mother. He could not live without her. He did put into her hands the most delicate interests of all his Affairs, and desired that all things should stoop to her Authority. The mother also did indeavour by all possible artifices to tie her self unto his person, even unto the using of Charms; for it is most certain that she gave him the skin of a serpent inclosed in a bracelet of gold, which he carried ordinarily about him, and afterwards in despite did lay it by, and did look for it not long before his death but could not find it. The en∣dearments of this Agrippina were too fond, and her kisses more hot then belonged to a mother.

Seneca was amazed at the horrour of it, and to * 1.6 avoid a greater evil, he procured a young maiden named Acta, who otherwise was a slave that came from Asia, but very beautifull, to serve as a Love for Nero, and to divert him from that infamous passion towards his mother, in which he demean'd himself as Lot, who presented his daughters to the Sodomites to avoid the greater fury of their brutish lust. This Acta played her part so well by the counsel of Se∣neca, that mingling with her familiarities the consi∣derations of State, she gave Nero to understand that his great privaces with Agrippina would render him contemptible to the great ones of his Empire, and to all his Subjects, and would also give an advan∣tage of power to his mother, which she would abuse to his own destruction.

He believed her, and became very amorous of her, * 1.7 and that so furiously, that he intended to prepare a Genealogy for her, in which, he would make her to be descended from the Kings of Asia, and afterwards would marry her. His mother was as much in rage on the other side, that a slave was become her ri∣vall, her choler did so much boil over, that she made horrible threatnings what she would say, and what she would do: She would go to the Army, she would complain to the Senate, she would discover the disastres of her infortunate house, and the empoy∣sonings by which she had ravished the Diadem which belonged to the sons of Claudius her husband, to put on the head of ingratefull Nero.

Nero, whether he would appease her or else deride * 1.8 her, did send her a gown of the antient Emperours which was very rich, but quite out of fashion; at which she was much incensed, and said she was no Comedian to be drest in such habiliments as those; and that he ought not but give one part to her from whom he received the whole, she would see she said if so poor a fellow as Burrus was, or such a pedan∣tick as was Seneca, should govern the world at their pleasure in the disgrace of the bloud of the Cesars. Sometimes again she would display her self so weak∣ly, that she would offer her self to be a procu∣rer of Loves for her sonne, and to hide in her own cabinet, nay, in her own breast, whatsoever he would keep secret.

Behold how God doth punish all fond affections * 1.9 and wickednesses by those themselves who have re∣ceived the profit from their poysons! What shall this miserable mother do? She is no more in a condi∣tion to give content, if there came by the by any small re-accommendation in their friendships, it was but lan∣guishing and of a short continuance. Nero desired nothing more then to eschew her company, and if he was obliged to see her, it was with a Comple∣ment as cold as ice; he would kisse her indeed, but rather out of ceremonies then out of love, and would immediately forsake her.

It is recorded, that beholding her self altogether * 1.10 misprised, her fury provoked her to love a young Prince (on his mother side of the bloud of Augu∣stus) named Plantius, whom she served for the sa∣tisfaction of her desires, and to find a subject to im∣broil the seat. This was brought to the ears of the Prince, who began to startle at the apprehension of it, and could not be at rest untill he was rid of them both. He killed Plantius having first violated his body, and took a dismall resolution to infold his mo∣ther in the same calamity.

After a faint reconcilement which continued for a * 1.11 few dayes, he sent her a letter full of fine Comple∣ments, inviting her to Bajae where he then took his

pleasures. Aristotle saith, That women are naturally credulous, especially when they have something sent them to amuse their passion. She immediately pre∣pared to come to him, who was as ready to entertain her, and brought her to Baula where was his house of pleasure. He had a desire to poyson her as he did his brother Britannicus, but he knew she had an eye alwayes open for her own preservation, and had with her antidotes to divert the operation of any poyson.

Therefore he consulted to put her to death on the sea, which is the field of dangers, where there is more of the effect and lesse of the suspicion. To accommo∣date her on her return, he caused a pompous vessel to be prepared, the deck whereof was to fall down by artifice, and charge was given to disloyall Anicetus, who was to conduct it, to put the device in pra∣ctise, and to drown the barge. In the mean time he entertained the Queen in his Palace of delight with incomparable chear. He would place her at the table above him; he would comport and com∣ply with her in a gallant and gracefull posture; sometimes he would whisper some soft words in her ear; sometimes he would openly renew the ten∣dernesse of his first love and antient confidence; he served her both with the gentle and with the serious, to give her full satisfaction: she poor woman in long draughts drank deeply of the sweets of those poy∣sonous indearments, and found her heart much in∣larged at so unexpected a change. At the hour of her departure he would conduct her to the boat, and entertain her with suger'd words, telling her, that he would not live but onely for her love, and that the greatest and the most acceptable office that she could do him, was to be chearfull, and to have a particu∣lar care of her health. He seemed to look upon her with ravishments, whether it were to put the better countenance on his perfidiousnesse, or whether he were touched in mind at the near misfortune of his mother, who being made a lamentable sacrifie was going now insensibly to her death. At parting, he was not onely content to kisse her mouth, but ta∣king her in his arms, he in a lovers complement did embrace her, and omitted nothing to cover his hor∣rible design.

She entred into the barge in the evening: The sea was calm, the winds had faln asleep upon it. The sky was full of stars, as if it had opened all its eyes to behold the spectacle which it ought to revenge upon the Authour. Agrippina had two Gentlemen which sate on each side of her, and a Lady on whom she much relyed, named Acroceraunia, who was pla∣ced at her feet, who entertained her with the rehear∣sall of many of the late passages at Court, and the obligations and the protestations of her sonne, when (behold) the sign being given, the roof of the cabbin in which they were being covered with weights of lead (with which their treason overcharged it) did fall down, and killed one of the Gentlemen, and wounded Agrippina on the shoulder. The Ingineers who undertook the charge that the deck should fall directly down (being troubled in their consciences, or counterchecked by those who knew nothing of the game they were to play) did not perform it with that dexterity as was pretended, but gave leisure to those whom they would destroy to provide for their safety. Acroceraunia beholding her self in that danger, cry∣ed out that she was the mother of the Emperour, and that they should make haste to preserve her which was the occasion of her death, for immediately on those words she was killed with the blows of the poles and oars.

Agrippina beholding this goodly pageant, and being most assured that it was a design of her sonnes, had yet such a command over her passion that she spake not one word, and was saved by the swimming of one of those who were not of the Conspiracy. The Frigots made haste to receive her, and to convey her to her own house which was not farre off. The amaze∣ment of the accident did not so abate her spirits, but she sent to Nero to acquaint him, That the Gods and the good Fortune of her Sonne had delivered her from a great danger, but she desired him not to take the pains to visit her, nor to send any of his servants to her, because she desired to take her rest.

The dismall Prince who every moment attended * 1.12 the issue of this most execrable enterprise, was much amazed to understand that she had escaped the dan∣ger, and counterfeited that the messenger whom his mother had sent was an Assassinate imployed to mur∣der him. He awaked Seneca and Burrus to demand their counsel, and did remonstrate to them the dan∣ger in which he was, if he should not throughly ac∣complish what he had so ill begun. These two great personages did look on one another, being unwilling to disswade him without effect, or to consent unto it by reason of the horrour of it. Seneca, to whom the fluencies of Language were never before wanting, held his eyes fixed on Burrus Captain of the Life-guard, as if without speaking to him he would ask him if he had not souldiers enough of his company to exe∣cute that which should be conceived to be expedient: but Burrus did prevent him, and told the Emperour that the men under his command were too much af∣fectionated to the Bloud of the Cesars to undertake so hardy an enterprise. They both had a desire to di∣vert him from so bad a deed for the want of an undertaker.

But the detestable Anicetas, Admirall of the Fleet, * 1.13 did again present himself to put the last hand unto the massacre. He immediately with some souldiers did transport himself to Agrippina's castle; he broke open the gates, and found her in bed forsaken of all the world. Assoon as she beheld three frightfull faces to enter her chamber, she spake courageously to them, and told them, if they came to give her a complement, that she had no need of it, and if they had any other design, she believed her son was not so wicked as to command her murder. These villains, without answer∣ing one word, did begin the assassinate; one struct her with a truncheon, another had his sword at her bleeding breast, to whom she cryed out and onely said, The Belly, Souldier, the Belly that did bear the monster: after which she gave up the ghost, her body being hacked with many wounds. Her corps was burned that very night, and one of her servants killed her self before the funerall pile, either for fear of the sonne, or for grief of the mother. Howsoever, Nero caused a Declaration to be published, in which, not without horrour to the Readers he laid all the fault upon his Mother; and after this, he had never any rest, for he dreamed almost every night that he saw his mother calling him down to hell, and beheld unnumbred Furies tormenting him in the flames thereof.

For all this, he desisted not from the nature of a * 1.14 Tygre, but to the massacre of his mother he added the murder of his wife Octavia, the most innocent Princesse on earth. The cause of it was, one Otho, a companion of his deboistnesse had taken from Crispus, a man of quality, his wife Poppea, and in a fury (such as Nero's himself) had espoused her. He told Nero so many wonders of the pleasures of his marriage, that he gave him a desire to taste them, thinking it

would be a means to raise him to a higher dignity; but the event was, that the Lady perceiving her self to be beloved of the Emperour, did totally devote her self unto him, and did advise him to send her husband into Portugall under the colour of Ambassadour.

This cunning woman had a commanding beauty, * 1.15 a sweet and pleasing voyce, and incomparable attra∣ctions and allurements. She did leade Nero as a child, and observing him so violently inamoured of her, she would be his Mistresse without a Paramour, and would not permit his own wife to partake of his bed. For which purpose she contrived a detestable plot, and caused the virtuous Empresse to be accused for prostituting her self to a player on the Flute, who by his birth was an Alexandrian; an accusation which could not be spoken without the absolute dislike of all good men, nor believed by any but ignorant and depraved persons.

Neverthelesse, Tigillinus the most intimate with Nero, who was a great stickler in the marriage with Poppea, caused the men and maid-servants of the Princesse to be examined; some of whom being torn upon the rack, did in the extremity of the torment let fall some untruths to deliver themselves from the in∣tollerable pain: others continued constant, and there was a maid-servant of that courage, that being in the midst of all her torments, she said to infamous Tigel∣linus; Know, Executioner, that there is not one part in all the body of my Mistresse, but is more chaste then thy mouth.

There being not proofs sufficient to destroy her, Nero was content to send her away into one of his houses, and to be divorced from her under the pre∣tence of barrennesse. Not long after, she was remo∣ved thence and kept under guard, and was afterwards called back to Rome to appease the trouble which the absence of so illustrious and so virtuous a Lady had caused. She was received with great applause of all the City, which so alarm'd the spirit of Poppea, that she threw her self at Nero's feet, and did remonstrate to him,

That he should take no more care for his loves but for his life, and that this return did tend to nothing else but to ruine him with her self, and to make them both fall under the fury of the people. That this was not it which she had deserved of his friendship; and if he had rather ad∣vance in his palace the child of a player on the Flute, then to have from her a legitimate heir, that would give her leave to depart in a good hour, and that she would look out her husband Otho in whatsoever place of the world she could find him.

She used such and so many attractions, so many * 1.16 counterfeit tears, such sweetnesses, and such rigours of love, that she prevailed with detestable Nero, who (by Anicetus, the same man who before killed his mo∣ther,) did raise a horrible calumny against the honour of his wife, and caused this instrument of the devil to affirm, that he had played with the Empresse; on which he caused her to be banished, and poor Octavia, as a guilty person, did suffer under that wicked sen∣tence, and was banished into the Isle of Panda∣luria: and because Poppea could not sleep in quiet with Nero as long as Octavia was alive, he filled up his cruelty, and by a most unworthy death he sa∣crificed her to the appetite of that most bold woman, whom afterwards he killed with a spum of his foot on the end of his life and of his Empire.

My pen is weary to describe so many horrours, and doth go over them as on so many burning coals, but (my Reader) it is to represent unto you, that this per∣nicious caitiste causing the poyson of his evill actions to diffuse it self into the veins of all the city of Rome. The world was in its heighth of iniquity, when S. Paul and Seneca (meeting together at one time) did endeavour to cure the maladies of this wicked Court, the one by Philosophy, the other by the Gospel. Be∣hold here the manners, learning, abilities, and the suc∣cesse both of the one and of the other.

Who hath not Seneca in veneration (a good Au∣thour * 1.17 saith) hath not the understanding of a reasonable man. He is known by all knowing men in his Wri∣tings, and mis-known by some in his Manners and his Life. Suillius, a Roman Advocate, accused for cor∣ruption, and banished by the counsell of Seneca at what time he was imployed in the government of Af∣fairs, did write a defaming Book against that great * 1.18 personage, which two Greek Historians, but men of small judgement, Dion and Xiphiline have followed, and in many things have blamed him with as much passion as impertinence. This Opinion hath infected divers spirits, who, either for want of capacity or ap∣plication, do discourse unto us of Seneca, as of a man quite contrary to his Books, which hath made me di∣ligently to examine his Life, to take away the abuse, and to give you an Idaea of that puissant Genius with as much clearnesse as sincerity.

Know then that he was a Roman by his Extract * 1.19 and Bloud. He was born at Corduba a city in Spain, which was then under the Empire of Rome, and full of Italians, who being born almost in all the parts of the world, were yet born within the Circle of their Empire. His father was of an ordinary family; a Gentleman of no great account, removed from the ob∣servation of the world, and as farre from command as from ambition, addicted above all things to the study of Eloquence, reasonably learned, but of an admirable memory, for having but once heard them, he would readily rehearse two thousand names, and two hundred verses. His mother was named Helvia, one of the most beautifull women in the Empire, full of under∣standing and judgement, of a high virtue and a rare modesty; she had some knowledge in letters, and an extraordinary capacity to increase that knowledge, if time and custome had given her leave to take an ad∣vantage of it. His elder brother was called Novatus or Gallion. and had a great command in the Empire. His younger brother was named Mela, a man farre from ambition, who lived in the house, and studied Eloquence with his Father, who in that regard did preferre him in his own judgement above his brothers.

But Seneca was nourished and advanced in Rome * 1.20 in the time of Augustus Cesar; he received his first elements of learning under the Discipline of his father, and afterwards studied Philosophy under Attalus and Socion. In his first years he made the vigour of his Spirit, the force of Eloquence, and the abundance of Learning to appear so fully in him, that he was admired by the most knowing men. But that great spirit did by degrees consume his body which was lean and thin, and troubled with defluxions and the ptisick, which would have brought him to his grave, if the cruelty of Nero had not prevented it.

He was obliged to make an Oration in publick be∣fore * 1.21 Caligula the Emperour, concerning which that monster in nature who could not endure any thing that was great and praisefull, and by a malignity of man∣ners, envied all professours of Learning, did pronounce aloud that he had too much spirit, and that they must kill him, which had presently been put in execution, if one of the Mistresses of the Emperour, who knew Seneca, and favoured him for his Eloquence, had not perswaded him, that he was not worth killing, a lean

poor fellow, and one whom death would suddenly of it self take away from the world. Howbeit, he lived many years afterwards, and increased in knowledge as in age, and as much in Eloquence as in them both, attending a more favourable time to make a manifestation of it.

Claudius succeeded the Emperour Caligula, who was not a man for Seneca, and though he was indued with extraordinary qualities for a Courtier, yet the favour of the times did not much smile upon them. His clear spirit and his brave works made him to be known in the house of Germanicus, a Prince of the Bloud, who was poysoned in the flower of his age, and left behind him children of great consideration, namely, two Princesses, who made themselves diversly talked of in Rome; the one was Julia, the other Agrippina, the mother of Nero. This Julia took an affection to Seneca, being much pleased with the beau∣ty * 1.22 of his spirit, and the grace of his discourse. He dai∣ly frequented the house of Germanicus, being no lesse in discretion then in favour, and wisely judged that these two high-born Princesses might one day contri∣bute to the making of his fortunes.

But the Court is an uncertain sea where sometime a tempest doth arise when a calm is expected. The favour of Julia, in the stead of advancing Seneca, did suppresse him, and did almost overwhelm him with∣out any hope of rising again, although in the end it was in effect the cause of all his reputation. It came to passe that Messalina the wife to the Emperour Claudius, the most insatiable woman in her lusts that Nature ever produced, did conceive an enraged hatred against the house of Germanicus, and especially against the Princesse Julia, because she was highly esteemed for her rare beauty; and the high spirit of Messalina could not endure that any Lady should be praised at Court, for her beauty, but her self. Besides, she per∣ceived that her husband, whom she absolutely govern∣ed, did make very much of that young Princesse, she therefore caused her to be falsly accused for prostituting her honour, and procured her to be banished the Court. An inquiry was made after those who did fre∣quent her house: Seneca was named amongst the fore∣most, * 1.23 and by calumny invelopped in the same accusa∣tion, whether it was suspected that he had treated of love with her, or whether it was thought that he was an accomplice in her excesses, and had flattered her in her passion without giving her advice.

It is true that our Seneca was then in the flower of his age, and was none of those fullen and stern Stoicks that had put the world into a fright: He had a gentle spirit, discreet, and agreeable to women, but he was too advised to let his passions flie so high as to com∣mit any loose act in the house of the Cesars. Dion his greatest enemy doth justifie him in this businesse, and doth confesse that all this accusation was most unjustly grounded, and that Messalina was so depraved and so corrupted with the inordinatenesse of filthy lusts that no credit was to be given to her.

Neverthelesse, she ceased not to bear down the in∣nocent with the weight of her power; she condemned the Princesse to banishment, and afterwards to death, as Dion and Suetonius do affirm. It did much afflict her that Seneca was alive, who by divers sentences in the Senate was allotted to death: but the good Em∣perour Claudius was most unwilling to extinguish in that Spirit, the Glory of Eloquence, and of the Em∣pire, desired his life of the Senate, and was contented that he should be banished into the Isle of Corsica, where at the beginning he was touched with a melan∣choly amazement to find himself separated from the pleasures of the Court to live amongst the rocks, and people as ungentle as the rocks; but he imployed all his Philosophy to comfort himself, and to temper the eager∣nesse of his fortune with the tranquility of his mind.

Here his spirit being delivered from the noise and the tumults of Rome, and the servitudes of the Court, did altogether reflect upon it self, and found there those Lights and those Treasures which before lay undisco∣vered to him. Tribulation is to men as a spurre to in∣cite them to the production of brave works and of ge∣nerous actions; and this appeared in Seneca, who in this * 1.24 place of banishment did write most excellent Treatises, neither did his conversation with those rude inhabitants alter the graces or the beauty of his language. He treated there with the Intelligences, and dived into the Contemplation of the World: He took off the vail from Nature that she might the better be seen in her majesty. Howsoever in that solitary place he had sometimes his hours of affection, beholding himself severed from his mother whom he tenderly loved, and whom, in that affliction he comforted w^th a letter which might pass for a good book. He passionately desired the company of his brothers and some personages of Honour who loved him with as much sincerity as profession.

There was some that think it strange in Seneca that he should desire and endeavour his return, and that in his consolatory letter to Polybius he did write the praises of the Emperour Claudius who did banish * 1.25 him. But have not they somthing to do who exact more perfection in Seneca, a man at that time of the world, then is required in a Prophet: where is the bird that doth not sometimes beat his bill against the cage to find out the door to his liberty? Jeremy was exceeding patient, and yet he humbly besought K. Zedekiah to draw him out of prison where he had suffered much, and much feared that he should be committed again unto it. Doth not S. Paul say that liberty is better then slavery, & that one is to be supported by necessity, and the other to be procured by reason. What fault hath Seneca done, that in his exile he wrote unto Polybius (a great favourite) a letter consolatory on the death of his brother, and in∣serted in it a few good words to appease the Emperour. Should he have spared a period or two to deliver him∣self from a banishment where he had continued for the space of eight years? I should no way approve him for bestowing flatteries on a wicked man, which should be an act unworthy of a Philosopher; for a generous spirit had better to endure the extremity of evil then praise a tyrant, and give applauses to his person. You may observe how carefull he is in that Tract to give not so much as one Complement to Messalina, who was a very bad woman, although she had the command of all; he onely praised an Empe∣rour who in that time wherein he wrote his Consolati∣on to Polybius, was in good reputation, and made the face of the Empire look farre otherwise then it did in the Reign of Caligula his predecessour. He is so discreet, that all the praises he doth give him are no more then wishes.

Let the Powers of Heaven preserve him long on * 1.26 earth; Let him surmount the years and the acts of Augustus; and as long as he shall be mortall, let there not any die in his house. Let him give us a long sonne to be Master of the Roman Empire, ha∣ving approved him by his long fidelity; And let him have him rather for his Colleague then for his Successour. (Afterwards he addresseth himself to Fortune, & speaketh unto her,) Take heed, O Fortune how thou makest thy approaches to him. Let not thy power be seen in his person but by thy bounties. Let him redresse the calamities of mankind, and re∣establish all that which the fury of his Predecessour hath ruined and made desolate. Let that fair Starre which is risen when the world was falling into the

Abysmes, continue alwayes to illuminate the Uni∣verse. Let him pacifie Germany, and let him open England. Let him gain and surmount the Tri∣umphs of his Father. His Clemency, which is the first of his Virtues, doth promise that I shall not be a Spectatour onely, and that he hath not cast me down, to raise me up no more. But why say I, cast down? he hath upheld me from the hour that I fell into my misfortune; when they would have thrown me headlong down, he interposed; and by the moderation of his divine hands he laid me gently on the earth. He hath entreated the Senate for me, and not content himself to give me life, he hath desired it of others that I might enjoy the Grant with more assurance. Let him deal with me as he pleaseth, I assure my self that his Justice will find my cause to be good, or his Clemency will make it so. It is all one to me whether I am judged not guilty by his Equity, or whether I am made innocent by his Bounty. In the mean time, I rejoyce in my miseries with a sensible consolation to see the course of his Mercy which goes through the Universe, and which every day doth call forth the Banished from this little corner of the earth in which I am buried alive. I have that hope that his Mercy will not come to me, to go beyond me, and to leave me to die in this place. He knoweth the time in which he will relieve those whom he pleaseth, and I must leave that to his Dispensation; onely I shall endeavour not to render my self unworthy of his Benefits, and I will provide in some sort that his Goodnesse shall not blush to have made its ap∣proaches to me. How happy, O Cesar, is your Clemency! under whom the Banished do live more contented, then Kings did heretofore under your Predecessour.

Behold here the finest Complement that ever pro∣ceeded from the mouth of man, and he who well ob∣serves it, will find nothing of sordid flattery in it. And that the Reign of Claudius, compared to that of Caligula, doth go so farre beyond it, as silver surpas∣seth lead. Yet for all those fair words, Claudius did nothing for him as long as Messalina did manage the heighth of the Affairs, and till after his Polybius, who suffered himself to sink into that infamy, as to be * 1.27 numbred in the List of the Adulterers with the Em∣peresse, was disgraced, and condemned to death: not long after which, this prostituted Woman having wea∣ried both heaven and earth with her filthinesse, did in∣cense her husbands Patience into a Rage, who caused her to passe under the edge of the sword.

Agrippina, widow to Domitius the father of Nero, returned then to the Court, having absented her self long from it by reason of the misfortune of her sister Julia; she knew so well to cajole the Empe∣rour, that he espoused her as I have mentioned before. The first action she did, and for which she was praised by all the world, was her revoking of Seneca to Rome from the Isle of Corsica: immediately afterwards, she committed the charge of her son Nero into his hands, who was then eleven years of age, and finding him to be a man of a choice spirit, she took a resolution to make one day use of his service in the management of * 1.28 the affairs of State.

To speak sincerely of the manners of Seneca, he had a great and a gallant soul, and dispositions to a * 1.29 high virtue; he was neither guilefull, nor wilfull, nor malicious, nor cruel, nor voluptuous, and I do strong∣ly believe, that of a Gentleman he was the best man of that Age. Also Cornelius Tacitus, who concealeth no evil that he knows, and oftentimes doth divine on that of the which he is not throughly informed, doth never speak of Seneca but with honour, as a wise and sober man, and moderate in his passions. And Saint Hierome himself doth witnesse, that he was a most continent person, which may suffice to disabuse those who suffer themselves to be amazed with the Rapso∣dies of Dion.

Without all doubt he had something in his soul as religious as it was great, which did not contentent it self with words but did proceed to actions; And this did easily appear in his youth, for when so many gen∣tlemen of Rome did resort to the Universities of the Philosophers, some for the wantonnesse of sporr, others to see fashions, others to carry away some fine sentence in their Table-book, and by that means to get some esteem in conversation, Seneca addressed himself unto them to learn and to practise virtue. When he intend∣ed to speak of Riches, of Solitude, of Chastity, of Sobriety, he found his heart inflamed, and he would have lived altogether a retired life, if the great qualities wherewith God had indued him had not imbarked him in the Affairs of the Court.

It is a wonder that amongst so great a confluence at the Court, he alwayes observed that austere life which he practised in his infancy. He did never eat of any delicacies which do serve onely to flatter the appetite, and did content himself with the most sim∣ple viands. He never drank any wine, he used alto∣gether cold baths, he did not care for perfumes, he oftentimes would lie on the ground upon a poor mat∣ter as, where no print of his body was to be seen, so hard it was. He also sometimes did abstain from food, and he found it good for him, and all his life time he had practised it, if his father had not expresly commanded him to the contrary, because in the Reign of Tyberius * 1.30 there was a sect of strangers condemned at Rome who made a profession of certain Abstinences. Some are of opinion that he did speak of Christians, but they were neither known nor persecuted under the Emperour Tyberius. For the rest, all his Train were carried in one caroach which oftentimes was out of order; and instead of lovely Pages and Minions, he was served by men onely, and small was the retinue that attended on him.

He received all things that were given him with facility, and complained not of any thing: He took no offence at the reports and slanders of men, and pardoned many other inconveniencies, he had an ho∣nest heart and full of love to those to whom he professed love; he was tender of compassion on the behalf of the poor, and a hater of covetousnesse. After he had satisfied the Affairs of the Empire, he took no plea∣sures at all but in Contemplation and Study, Books being unto him as necessary as his bread. His table was moderate, his discourse affable, his life innocent, and his conversation most attractive. Amongst other things, he would be angry with himself for not having professed Virtue openly enough, and for reflecting his thoughts on the considerations of the world: and in modesty he would say, that he aspired alwayes to the heighth of Virtue, and neverthelesse he still found him∣self to be in the centre of Vices. Those who condemne him without knowing what he was, would think that they themselves did great penance if they should live after the manner of Seneca. He was with Nero five or six years before he was made Emperour, and formed his Infancy with excellent Instructions: in the mean time Agrippina did the fatall act, as I have spoken, and poisoned Claudius her husband to devolve the Em∣pire on her son, who was elected by the generall con∣sent of all the States.

It is too true that Seneca found himself overcharged with joy at so great a change, and at that time a little

forgat the severity of a Philosopher, when he compo∣sed a railing Book on the death of Claudius which he called Apocolocynthosis; as if he should have said, Di∣vinity * 1.31 acquired by the means of a Drug, alluding to that he was numbred in the catalogue of the Gods, being preferred to heaven by poyson. Some believe that he composed that Book as well to revenge himself for the death of his dear Benefactour Julia, and for the affliction of his long banishment, as to tejoyce his Scholar Nero who took great pleasure in it. But in my opinion it is unworthy the gravity of so great a personage; and I know not to what purpose it is to revile the Ashes of the Dead, although it is not forbid∣den to write a true History to leave a horrour to poste∣rity in recording the lives of the wicked. This, how∣soever, may serve for instruction not to play with wasps or incense those who have the pen in their hand, and can eternally proscribe their Adversaries.

After this sport he was imployed upon the Earnest, * 1.32 and Agrippina, mother of the young Emperour, de∣siring to confirm her self in the Monarchy, and to go∣vern by her son, did supply him with two creatures, men of gteat capacity and fidelity, Burrus for Arms, and Seneca for Laws. The first was severe in his con∣versation, the other was of a mild and pleasing dispo∣sition. They both agreed even to their deaths in the government of the Affairs of State. Then it was that Seneca did enter into those great imployments, and exercised that high wisdome which he had acquired for the Government of the Empire. He began with his Prince, who was the first and the most amiable ob∣ject of all his troubles; and although at the first he did expresse himself very tractable and agreeable to all the world, yet Seneca perceived in his infancy the * 1.33 marks of a cruel and bloudy nature; and told to his in∣timate friends that he nourished a young lion whom he endeavoured to make tractable, but if he should taste once of the bloud of men, he would return to his first nature. And this was the occasion that at that time he did write for him the two Divine Books of Clemency, where, with variety of remarkable proofs he doth establish, the Excellency, the Beauty, and the Profit of candor of Spirit, and the advantage which redounds unto a Prince to govern his Subjects with Bounty and Love. On the contrary, he remonstrates the horrour and disastres of Tyrants who would pre∣vail by Cruelty in the management of their Estates. All his endeavour tended that way, wisely foreseeing that Nero would fall into extreme Cruelties, and for that cause he did willingly give way that he should delight himself in Comedies, in Musick and such Ex∣ercises of softnesse, hoping that in some manner it would make more civil his savage nature. He also composed for him many eloquent Orations, which the young Emperour would pronounce with great grace to the generall admiration both of the Senate and the people.

He made also many excellent Ordinances, some * 1.34 whereof, by the report of Dion, were engraved upon a pillar of silver, and were read every year at the re∣newing of the Senate. He hated all the inventions, the deceits, and tricks of State as a trade of iniquity, and did ground himself on the eternall principles of Justice, by which he kept the Empire in a profound peace, in great abundance, and a sure felicity. So that in a manner Frontine makes a true narration, he saith that Seneca had so redressed all abuses, that it seems he had brought goodnesse into the Empire, and called the Gods from heaven to be conversant again with men. In which he made use of the Philosophy of the Stoicks, not that which is so rigid and so sullen, but that which he had tryed and seasoned for that designe to give to the world a taste thereof. His opinions for the * 1.35 most part are Rationall, Sacred, and Divine.

If he speaks of God it is in the same sense as the * 1.36 Saviour of the world did discover to the Samaritan. He professeth openly that God is a Spirit, and that the difference betwixt God and us is, that the better part of us is Spirit; but that God is all Spirit, most Pure, Eternall, Infinite, the Creatour of the great works of Nature which we behold with our eyes.

If he speaketh of true Worship and the most sin∣cere * 1.37 Religion which we ought to imploy to honour and adore the sovereign King of the Universe; he doth sufficiently declare, that the worship of God ought to be in Spirit and in Truth, as our Saviour hath prescribed. When you figure God (saith he) represent a great Spirit, but peaceable, and reverend by the sweetnesse of his Majesty; a friend to men, and who is alwayes present with them, who is not pleased with bloudy Sacrifices, for what delight can he take in the butchery of so many innocent creatures. The true Sacrifice of the great God, is a pure Spirit, an up∣right understanding of him, and a good Conscience. We ought not to heap stones upon stones to raise a Temple to him, for what need hath he of it: the most agreeable Temple that we can build for God, is to consecrate him in our hearts. Lactantius hath so much * 1.38 esteemed of this passage, that in the sixth Book of his Institutions he doth oppose it to the Gentiles as a buck∣ler of our Christianity.

If there be a question about the Presence of God * 1.39 which above all things the masters of spirituall life do commend in their Instructions, he saith, That it is to no purpose to conceal ones self from man, and that there is nothing hid from God who is present in our hearts and in our most secret thoughts.

If we rest in the Contemplation of the Divine Pro∣vidence, * 1.40 which is the foundation of our life, he believeth a Providence which reacheth over all. And in a Tract which he hath composed, he pertinently doth answer those who are amazed, why Evil arriveth to good people, since so great and so good a God hath a care of their wayes. He saith, That it is the chastise∣ment of a Father an exercise of Virtue, and that what we take to be a great Evil is oftentimes the occasion of a great Good; that such is the course and order of the world according to the Divine dispensation, to which we ought to submit our selves.

If we consider the Immorrality of the Soul, which * 1.41 is the foundatton of our Faith and of all virtuous acti∣ons it is certain that he had a good opinion of it, and professerh in his 102. Epistle, That he delightneth not onely according to Reason to search after the E••ernity of the Soul, but to believe it; and he complaineth that a letter received from a friend did interrupt him in that Contemplation, which seemed to him so palpable, that it was rather to him an agreeable Vision that he had in a Dream then any Discourse in Philosophy. And in the end of the Epistle he speaketh of wonders, of the originall of the Soul, and the return of it to God. And in the Preface of the first Book of Naturall Questions, which he did write some few years before his death (which makes the truth more remarkable) he speaketh clearly, that the Soul returneth to heaven, if it be well purified from its commerce with earth; that heaven is its true Countrey and Element; and that it is a great proof of its Divinity that it delighteth to hear of heavenly things as being the affairs proper to it self.

We must take care not here to judge and condemn Seneca on a doubtfull word, as when in his Consola∣tion to Martia he saith, That all end by Death, and by Death it self. He onely there toucheth of Goods

and Evils, of Honours, Riches, Pleasures, Troubles, and the Cares of this present life. It is most clear, that there is nothing in that Sentence which derogates from the Immortality of the Soul, because he concludes that Treatise with the joyes which a happy Soul re∣ceiveth in the other life. And it is not from our pur∣pose to consider, that Seneca sometimes in disputing speaketh by supposition, according to the Idaea of others and not according to his own. We cannot know better the opinion of an Authour then by his Actions and his Practise; and we observe that Seneca hath not onely professed the Immortality of the Soul by words, but believeth the effect in secret; for he reverenced the Souls of great Personages, and did believe them to be in heaven, which he testified before he received the Christian Faith, when being in a countrey-house of Scipio of Africa, he rendred divine honours to his * 1.42 Spirit, prostrating himself at the Altar of his Sepul∣chre, and perswading himself (he said) that his Soul was in heaven, not because that he was Generall of the Army, but because he lived an honest man, and having infinitely obliged his ingratefull countrey, he retired himself in a voluntary solitude to his own house to give no fears and jealousies of his great∣nesse.

If we demand where he placed the sovereign good * 1.43 and the end of Man, we shall find that he established the felicity of this present life to live according to Reason; and that of the life to come in the re-union of the Soul with its first beginning which is God. From this foundation he hath drawn a rule and pro∣positions which he hath dispersed over all his Books, and these are to despise all the goods of the world, Honours, Empires, Riches, Reputation, Pleasures, gor∣geous Habiliments, stately Buildings great Possessions, Gold, Silver, precious Stones Feasts, Theatres, Playes, and to take all things as accessory, and to regard them no more then the moveables of an Inne where we are not but as passengers. And above all things, to esteem of virtue, of the mortification of loose desires, of contemplation of eternall virtues, of Justice, Pru∣dence, Fortitude, Temperance; of Liberality, Benigni∣ty; of Friendship; of Constancy in a good course of life; of Patience in Tribulation; of Courage to sup∣port injuries; of Sicknesse, Banishment, Chains, Re∣proaches; of Punishments, and of Death it self.

We may affirm that never any man spoke more worthily then he of all these subjects. Never Con∣querour did subdue Nations with more honour, then this great Spirit with a magnificent glory at his feet hath levelled and spurned down all the Kingdomes of Fortune. All that he speaketh is vigorons, ardent, lively. His heart when he did write did inflame his style to inflame the hearts of all the world. His words followed his thoughts. He did speak in true Philoso∣phy but as a king, and not as a slave to words and periods. His brevity is not without clearnesse. His strength hath beauty, his beauty hath no affectation: he is polished, smooth, full, and entire; never languish∣ing, impetuous without confusion; his discourse is tis∣sued, yet nothing unmasculine; invincible in his reason∣ing, and agreeable in all things. Howsoever, we ought not to conclude by his Books that he was a Christian, because he wrote them all before he had any know∣ledge of Christianity, and therefore it is not to be won∣dred at, if sometimes he hath Sentences which are not conformable unto our Religion.

Some one will object that he is admirable in his Writings, but his Works carry no correspondency with * 1.44 his Pen. This indeed is the abuse of some spirits grounded on the calumnies of Dion and Suillius, which those men may easily see confuted, who without passion will open their eyes unto the truth. He re∣proacheth him for his great Riches, in lands, in gold and silver, and sumptuous moveables, and layeth to his charge that he had five hundred beds of cedar with feet of ivory. It seems that this slanderer was steward of Seneca's house, so curious he was in decyphering his estate. But all this is but a mere invention, for how is it possible that he who according to Cornelius Tacitus did not live but onely on fruit, and bread, and water, and who never had any but his wife to eat with him, or two or three friends at most, should have five hun∣dred beds of cedar and ivory to serve him at his feasts. It is true that he had goods enough, but no∣thing unjustly gotten; they were the gifts and largesses of the Emperour. And because he had sometimes writ∣ten that Goods were forbidden to Philosophers, he therefore was content to hold them in servitude and not to be commanded by them. He was overcome by Nero to carry some splendour in his house, as being the chiefest of the Estate, and it was put upon him as a sumptuous habit upon some statue. We cannot find that he had ever any children but his Books, or that he made it his study to enrich his Nephews or his Nieces, or to raise a subsistence for his house from the charges greatnesse, and riches of the Empire. He had the smallest train and pomp that possibly could be, and when he had the licence to be at liberty from the Court, he lived in an admirable simplicity; and which is more, he besought Nero with much importunity to discharge him from the unprofitable burden of his riches, and to put severall stewards into his houses to receive his re∣venues: but he made answer to him that he did a wrong unto himself to demand that discharge, for he had nothing too much, and that he had in Rome many slaves enfranchized who were farre more rich then Seneca.

Yet for all this Reproach is proved to be unjust, Dion proceeds further in his slander, and alledgeth, That he indeared Queens and Princes to him, for he wrote their Papers, and professed himself a friend to the richest Favourites. What is this, but to reproach a Courtier with his Trade, his Discretion, his Civi∣lity, his Affability which this great personage made very worthily to comply with his Philosophy. He married an illustrious Lady and of invaluable wealth. What! should he being in that high dignity to please Suillus, become suitor to some chamber-maid, or for mortifications sake, court some countrey girle? ought he to bring such a reproach after him to the Court of the Prince, what sinne hath he committed to espouse the most honest Lady in Rome called Paulina, and to have lived with her in the condition of a good hus∣band, and in a perfect intelligence. But he made love to the mother of the Emperour. This slander never came into the thought neither of Tacitus, nor Sueto∣tius, nor any other Historian who was a man of judge∣ment. It was onely the invention of an Impostor in∣fected with poyson that dreamed of any such thing. Agrippina had other manner of gallants and servants then Sececa in her Court: she sought not after bodies made thin with abstinence, and manners quite removed from such commerce. In a Court so clear-sighted there could never be discovered any familiarities which might give the least impression of such a thought, and which would have removed both the one and the other; no, Seneca did rather encline too much unto severity then to give any allurements to Agrippina.

The Glosser yet goes further and saith, That he was * 1.45 ungratefull to her. What ingratitude? he alwayes en∣deavoured to tie the spirits of the mother to the son in a perfect friendship, and did not cease to redresse all breaches that might give occasion of offence. But

when he observed that Agrippina did mount upon the Throne of her son, did give audience to the Ambassa∣dours of the Nations, did visit the Armies; and when he heard her vaunt that the Empire came unto him by her means, and that she would take it away from him when she thought good, he could not digest it. He preserved himself in that fidelity which he had sworn unto the Emperour, but he never counselled him either to remove Agrippina or to displease her. When Nero very warmly called him and Burrhus together, and in a great fright told them that his mother had con∣spired against his life, and that he was but a dead man if he did not prevent it. Seneca remained so lost in amazement, that in all his life he was never dumb but at that instant. And Cornelius Tacitus makes no men∣tion of the least word he did let fall that might wit∣nesse his consent to so horrible a deed. It is true that he composed the Declaration of Nero after his mo∣thers * 1.46 death, but it was by a rigorous necessity. He found himself betwixt two desperate extremities, either to leave the whole Empire at randome, to forsake the Helm and the Vessel in the tempest, and tender his neck to Nero, or to find some lenitive to ease the calamities so full of virulence. Some there are that do thus excuse him for it, and say, It was no marvel that he did de∣port himself in this fashion, because he was near to Princes, and that those who even make a profession of virtue, do study their own preservation, and oftentimes conceal those affairs which they cannot redresse.

For my own part, I am of judgement, that great men being in a place where they are obliged to speak, if they should wilfully or timerously hold their peace, do grievously offend God by their silence, and that Seneca should rather have died then have adhered to Nero polluted with his mothers bloud, and execrable to all the world.

He had before demanded leave to be gone from Court, wisely foreseeing the tempests that follow, but he could not obtain it, nor resist Nero, without putting himself in danger of his life. You see there may be a time when an honest man should rather venter his life then give a scandall unto Virtue. But his dissimu∣lation could not help him from being made at last a sa∣crifice to his most cruel Scholar, as we anon shall de∣clare unto you.

But for the present let us demand and examine the * 1.47 cause, why Seneca with so much Power, Authority, Eloquence, Philosophy, and humane Wisdome did effect so little for the reformation of manners in the Court of Nero, and in the City of Rome? It is with∣out all doubt that the wisdome of Books was too low for so high a design. We must make use of the grace of Redemption, and the Bloud, and the Gospel of Jesus to redresse such lamentable confusions. Let us then behold S. Paul, who at the same time did come to plant the Faith in Rome, and talked with Seneca, and made him to behold more excellent Light in the purity of his Life and Doctrine.

It is not my intention in this place to write at large * 1.48 the life of S. Paul, which is already sufficiently known, but particularly to touch on those things which he did at Rome when Seneca was in the government of the Affairs of the Empire. Neverthelesse, it is expedient to make a short recapitulation of the Times and the Voyages of this great Apostle, to understand the occa∣sion that did bring him to Rome, and what he there did practise for the advancement of the Faith.

S. Paul being born in the second or third year of * 1.49 our Saviour, was miraculously converted to the Chri∣stian Religion in the three and thirtieth year of his age. By his Extraction, he was a Jew born in the city of Tarsus, in the Province of Cilicia, where was a flou∣rishing University, from which came Antipater, Ar∣chidemus, Artemidorus, Diogenes, and Diodorus. But S. Paul, although he took his birth in the air of the Philosophers, and had some tincture of their Princi∣ples, did not amuse himself on the Philosophy of the Gentiles, but retiring to Jerusalem he studied at the feet of Gamaliel a great Doctour of the Mosaick Law. The zeal which he had for his Religion made him fu∣riously to persecute Christianity from his birth unto the time that he was subdued by the Spirit of God; and of a ravening wolf was made a lamb of the Fold. Saul fell (saith S. Augustine) and Paul did rise, the Interpretation of which name according to Hesychius is admirable, to shew unto us, that all things are mar∣vellous in him, even his name it self.

After his Conversion, he preached in Arabia and in * 1.50 Damascus for the space of three years, and did power∣fully convince the Jews on the verities of our Faith, who to divert the course of his Ministery in the im∣broilments which then were raised between the King of the Arabians and the Romans, did accuse him for having moved in the favour of Rome against the Ara∣bians and their King Aretas, who at that time held the city of Damascus, and had placed in it a Gover∣nour of his own faction. This Barbarian made an ex∣act inquisition, and would have apprehended S. Paul * 1.51 who was then in the same city. But his brethren the Christians were very carefull to deliver the Innocent from the hands of the guilty; and shewing themselves neither slothful nor fearful in a busines of that difficulty, (although he who had in his hands the Government of the City did threaten to destroy them if they delivered not Paul unto him) they caused him to escape out of a window, and to come down all along the Ramparts thereof in a panier which had a cord fastned to it.

From thence he transported himself to Jerusalem, * 1.52 where he saw S. Peter, and continued with him fifteen dayes in one lodging, not without joyes and ravish∣ments that cannot be expressed. We ought to content our selves with that which the Doctour of the Nations saith in his Epistle to to the Galathians, where he as∣sureth * 1.53 us, That he did historize the Prince of the Apo∣stles: that is to say, He did contemplate on him as an Historian doth on a Prince whose History he hath a design to write. He regarded not (saith S. Hierome) whether he were fat or lean, or whether he were bald or had a Roman nose, he onely dived into his spirit and his heart, and there he discovered all the treasures of wisdome.

After this most pleasing Colloquie he retired him∣self into the city of Cesarea, from whence he passed to Cilicia the place of his nativity, which he made fruit∣full with his Instructions for the space of four years. * 1.54 From thence S. Barnabas did leade him into Antioch, a famous city, where were a great number of Christi∣ans, who in that place were first called by that most glorious Name, and which hath ever since continued with all those who have made Profession of our Faith.

Having there so journed one year, he was deputed with S. Barnabas to carry the Charity of the Faithfull in Antioch unto Jerusalem, which office he most wor∣thily discharged, and they both taking John and Mark into their company, did travell into divers cities of Greece, and gave the Light of the Gospel unto the Na∣tions, which is at large described in the Acts of the Apostles, which seems almost to be onely written for S. Paul his sake.

On the end of this long Voyage he came unto Je∣rusalem at the first Councel held by the Apostles for the abolishing of Circumcision, and other Jewish Ce∣remonies, to which certain Jews would oblige the

Gentiles who were converted to the Faith, which Saint Paul could not endure, and what in him lay, did en∣deavour to chase away the shadows of the Old Law to make place for the Light of the Gospel; which was the reason that the Jews stirred up great Persecutions against him, and caused him to be apprehended in the fourth journey he made unto Jerusalem, and were re∣solved there to put him to death.

As he entred privately into the Temple with Tro∣phimus * 1.55 his Disciple, to discharge himself of some le∣gall Ceremonies, the Jews that were come from Asia did descry him, who could not be ignorant of his con∣versation with the Gentiles, and began to cry aloud against him, saying, That he was an enemy of the Temple and the Law, which he endeavoured to de∣stroy both by words and deeds, and that it was not fitting he should live. On this cry, a mutiny of enra∣ged people did advance their fury, who did throw themselves upon S. Paul to stone him, and to tear him in pieces. The noise was brought to the Roman gar∣rison in Jerusalem, and the news thereof came to Co∣lonel Lysias, informing that all the City was in a con∣fusion. He presently marched thither with the most resolute of the Souldiery, and plucked the Innocent from their hands to hear his Defence at their leisure. But these insolent Jews ceased not to follow him to the Corps de Guarde, where he was so invironed with them that he was carried by force on the Arms of the Soul∣diers into a place of safety.

When he saw himself within the power of the Ro∣mans he demanded of the Collonel the permission to speak to appease the people, which being obtained he began to make an Oration to them in Hebrew, to in∣form them of his life and condition, and of the zeal which he had to the Religion of the Jews, and of his miraculous Conversion from it, as also of his Orders which he received from God to preach the Faith unto the Gentiles. When they heard these words, they be∣lieved what was told them of him, and they did deal with him as a friend of the Heathen, and an enemy of their Law. They began to lay down ••heir garments to stone him, and to throw dust in the air, and to make a horrible tumult, whereupon, Colonel Lysias who understood not the Hebrew tongue was amazed, and conceived S. Paul had been some felon, and guilty of some hainous crime. He took him to be the Egypti∣an who a little before had raised a great Sedition, and had drawn after him four thousand men into the wil∣dernesse; and to give consent to the wild multitude, he did command that he should be scourged.

They proceeded to the execution of this Injustice, * 1.56 and now S. Paul was bound by the hands of the exe∣cutioners, who prepared themselves to put him into bloud, when he advised with himself to acquaint the officer who was to begin the punishment that he was a Citizen of Rome, in regard that those of the city of Tarsus did enjoy the priviledge of being Burgesses of the principall City of the world. The officer made haste unto the Tribune, and informed him with the quality of the prisoner, advertising him, that if they proceeded further on him they might be questioned for it. This was the occasion that the punishment was for∣born, and the Tribune (to understand what he could plead for himself, being unwilling to trust unto the people) did assemble the Priests and Scribes with the chief of the Jews to hear his Apology.

S. Paul did here use great discretion, and observing * 1.57 that the Assembly were composed of Sadduces and Pharisees who were counterpointed in the question of the Resurrection, he dd cast them on it, and publickly acknowledging the Resurrection, he cryed out, that the Dead should rise again, and held it as an inviolable Article of his Faith. On this, the Doctours of the Law did enter into a hot dispute, and there was a great de∣bate amongst them without making any examination at all concerning the fact of the prisoner. Lysias did very well perceive that all the contention was concern∣ing some questions of the Jewish Law, and knowing that Felix Governour of Judea was then at Cesarea, he resolved to send Paul to him with a strong and a safe guard, because there were fourty Jews so obstinate, that they had made a vow neither to eat nor drink un∣till they had massacred S. Paul.

Felix, who was a man of a delicate ambition and * 1.58 jealous of his Authority, was well satisfied with what the Tribune had done, and did resolve to examine the Processe himself. The Saint was presented before one of the most corrupt Judges under heaven; he was brother to Pallas (a servant infranchized) who in the Reign of Claudius was the God of the times: and Felix (as Cornelius Tacitus doth affirm) being covered with the great power and favour of his brother, did usurp the Authority of a King, which he managed with a servile spirit, making Cruelty and Lascivi∣ousnesse to reign with equal power in his Government. He was the husband, or rather the adulterer of three Queens, and she who then possessed him was called Drusilla, who was the daughter of that Agrippa who was in chains by Tiberius, of whom I have made men∣tion in the Tome of the Maxims, and descended from the bloud of Mariamna. She was married to one na∣med Azizus King of the Emmessaeans, but because that Royalty was of no great extent, she preferred the President above the King, so that Felix courting her for her rare beauty, she did willingly forsake her husband to espouse the brother to the great Favourite Pallas, who lived then under a most high considera∣tion. She conversed with him according to the Law of the Jews, and was almost as nice in the curiosity of Religions as of her beauties, which was the reason that (the more to gratifie her) Felix did cause S. Paul to be brought before him.

He was brought in chains before the President, and * 1.59 the Prince of the Priests failed not to make his ap∣pearance at Cesarea, with the Antients of the Jewish Nation, who brought with them an Advocate, named Tertullus, to plead against S. Paul, which he per∣formed coldly enough. But the great Champion of Jesus Christ did defend himself with so great a vivacity of spirit, that the Judge did clearly discover that he was not guilty of any fault, which was the occasion that he used him with the more humanity, and told him, that at leisure he would decide that businesse him∣self; in the mean time he permitted him to live at more liberty, not hindering any to come unto him and admi∣nister things necessary for his life; yet for all this he was still under a guard of Souldiers.

Not long after Felix called for him, and his wife * 1.60 Drusilla (who was the cause of his more gentle usage) did speak unto him in the presence of her husband, and desired to hear him on his discourses of Faith, which gave a fair occasion to our Apostle to speak, who dri∣ving on his Discourse with vigour, did so enlarge himself on the subject of Justice, of Chastity, and of universall Judgement, that Felix was much afraid, and interrupted his Discourse, fearing that he should leave some Scruples on the conscience of his wife concerning their marriage. It is easie to conjecture that this poor Princesse was much shaken at it, although the chains of Love and of Ambition did so link her to the world that we do not reade that she was absolutely convert∣ed to the Faith and number of the Christians. Felix stopping his ears to Judgement, did open his eyes to money, and having learned that S. Paul had brought

great sums of Charity unto Jerusalem, he oftentimes spoke with him, and seemed to make much of him, ho∣ping to gain something from him, but when he percei∣ved that there was nothing to be had, and that the time of his Commission was expired, he left Saint Paul to the discretion of Festus his successour, desiring in that to gratifie the Jews, and to divert the accusation which they intended at Rome against him.

Festus being arrived at Jerusalem was invironed * 1.61 by the chief of the Jews, who with importunity did demand that Paul might be sent to Rome to be judged there, having a design to kill him by the way. But the President did deny them, and did command them to come to Cesarea, where he would continue in the expectation of them. Thither they did transport them∣selves violently to follow their Accusations, which were all effectually answered, and confuted by S. Paul, who did demonstrate that he had offended neither their Law, nor the Temple, nor Cesar. Festus to content the importunity of the Jews, did demand of him if he would go to Jerusalem to decide the con∣troversie there, but he refused the Jurisdiction of those perverse people, and said, That he stood at the Tribu∣nall of Cesar, and would have no other Judge, and that he appealed to the Emperour. The Judge had some debate thereupon, and it was resolved that he should be sent to Rome.

In the mean time the young King Agrippa the son * 1.62 of that Agrippa before specified, came to Cesarea with his sister Bernice to complement the new Gover∣nour, who received them with great courtesie, and amongst other things he made a relation to them of his prisoner, which possessed them both with a great curiosity to see him. Festus did invite them to the Au∣dience, at which on the next morning they appeared with great pomp. This was a great Theatre which God had prepared for the publishing of the Gospel, where were present, a King, a Queen, the Governour of the Romans, the principall of the Nation of the Jews, and an infinit number of people who did attend the successe of that action.

S. Paul having received commandment to speak, made a long discourse couched in the Acts of the Apo∣stles, where he rendred a reason of his Faith, and spake most worthily of the Resurrection of the dead, of his Conversion to Christianity, of the Apparition of Jesus, of the Publication of the Gospel, and of the Prophe∣cies that did forego it. He declared himself with so much ardency, that Festus the President, who was a * 1.63 Heathen, and found his Pagan conscience wounded by his truths, was constrained to interrupt him, and to tell him, That much learning had made him mad; but S. Paul replyed to him, That he spoke the words of Truth and Sobriety; and turning from him to King Agrippa, he took him to witnesse it, as being one who was not ignorant of the Prophets.

This young King was so ravished at it, that he pro∣fessed publickly to the Apostle, that he had felt him in his heart, and that he had almost perswaded him to be a Christian; whereupon S. Paul made a great accla∣mation of joy, wishing him that happinesse to be like him in all things, his Bonds excepted, not judging that this Prince was yet an object capable of the Crosse. He was of a sweet condition, but he had then great ob∣stacles which hindred him from embracing the saving Truth. Bernice, who assisted at that Audience, was a most lovely Princesse, the sister of this Agrippa and Drusilla, but not so happy in the reputation of her Honour as of her Beauty. She was married first unto her uncle, and it is affirmed that she was taken with the love of this her brother Agrippa, and that most passionately she did affect him, neverthelesse to divert the fame and suspicion of the world, finding her self courted by Polemon King of Cilicia, she consented to espouse him, on that condition that he should be cir∣cumcized, to which the Prince was presently resolved, being overcome by the temptation of her Beauties and the excesse of Love to which she had enflamed him. She remained a certain time with him, but her high and wanton spirit did distaste him, and she returned into her own countrey to the Embraces of her brother, who lived with her, and entertained her in his place with∣out regarding of the scandall.

I leave you to judge, my Readers, how the matter was disposed to receive the fire which proceeded from the mouth of S. Paul. All that he could do was to imprint in the soul of the Prince and Princesse a good opinion of the Christian Religion, and a good respect for his own person; for at the rising of this Session they told the President, that there was nothing in that man, that deserved either imprisonment or death, but because he had appealed to Cesar, it was necessary that he should be sent to Rome.

After this, S. Paul was imbarked under the conduct * 1.64 of the Centurion Julius, who did use him with great humanity, and in the end, after a laborious voyage and shipwrack, they arrived at Rome. He made his coming known to the chiefest of his Nation, who then resided in the capitall City of the world, and did inform them of his good Intentions, protesting to them that he was not come to accuse his Nation, but having done nothing against their Law or their Religion, they had delivered him over to the Infidels, who having found his cause good, were ready to clear him, had not the clamours and the oppositions of some of the Jews obliged him * 1.65 to that voyage; and as concerning the rest, he was in chains (he said) for the hope of the salvation of Israel. They made answer to him, that they had understood nothing of him in particular, but knew very well that the Sect of the Christians which he had imbraced was contrary to all the world, and that they should be glad to understand by what Arguments he could pretend to justifie them.

To which S. Paul consented, and there were great Disputations amongst them concerning the mysteries of our Faith. S. Luke doth conclude his History on these conferences, and speaketh nothing of the Triall of S. Paul before the Magistrates of Rome; but we may learn it from the Epistle which the Apostle did write to his Disciple Timothy, and from that which * 1.66 he adressed to the Philipians, where he declareth, that on the first action of that Triall he was forsaken of all the world, but singularly assisted by God; and that the carrying on this affair did much improve it self to the advancement of the Gospel, his chains being known in Jesus Christ to all the Praetoriums in Rome, and to all the world: as also, that at last he was delivered from the mouth of the lion, by whom he understood the Em∣perour Nero.

From this, and from that which the holy Fathers and * 1.67 Interpreters have delivered, we may collect that Saint Paul came to Rome in the third year of the Emperour Nero, when as yet he was not depraved, and when Se∣neca was in the heighth of his reputation, and the ma∣nagement of the publick Affairs. We ought not to doubt that what is reported by the Pope S. Linus, con∣cerning the knowledge which Seneca had with S. Paul, is true, seeing that great Minister of State who had his eye over all, and who was extremely curious to understand the diversity of Sects and Religions, and to be inform∣ed of extraordinary Causes to make report thereof un∣to the Emperour, could no wayes be ignorant of so fa∣mous a thing which was made known in Rome both to the great and small. Besides, it is very probable

that Seneca assisted at the Triall, and heard the Rea∣sons of S. Paul. We may also easily conjecture the Discourse which he made before the Priests and the Senatours of Rome by the Apologies and Defences which he used before Felix, Festus, King Agrippa, Bernice, and all the Assembly of the Jews; and by what he spake to the Senate of the city of Athens. He then declared himself to them much after this manner.

I think my self this day happy that God hath granted me the favour to justifie my self in your pre∣sence * 1.68 on all those Articles with which they of my Na∣tion have accused me, being throughly possessed of the great sufficiency and the integrity of this Senate to decide all differences in the Empire. For this, I do begin to breathe again after my long and heavy voy∣age, and after a thousand troubles, beholding my self now at the Tribunall of Cesar which I have im∣plored; and I beseech you to attend me with that Patience and Equity which you never refuse to those who are oppressed.

My accusers know very well what hath been my life from my youth, and how by the pleasure of God being born at Tarsus a city in Cilicia, which is ho∣noured by the priviledge of Burgesses to this Capital City of the world, I have followed the Religion of my Fathers, conversing with a good and an upright conscience before God and before men, without of∣fending any.

I do avow, that according to the most perfect Sect amongst us, I have alwayes conceived assured hopes of our Immortality, and of the universall Resurre∣ction of men, which is established by the the invio∣lable promise of the living God to whom nothing is impossible; and that I have been most curious to observe all the Ceremonies of our Law. The zeal which did inflame me for it, did make me conceive that I had reason to persecute the Christians, and ha∣ving received a Commission from the chiefest of the Priests, I made an exact search to surprize, imprison, and torment those who made profession of it.

The fury did so farre transport me, that not con∣tent to prosecute a violent warre against them in Ju∣dea, I passed into strange Cities into which they were fled to relieve themselves from punishment; it came to passe, that going to Damascus (a city famous enough) as I did breathe forth nothing but fire and threatnings, I saw my self suddenly invironed with a light so glorious, that it did surpasse the brightest rayes of the Sun, and from that Splendour there did proceed the voice of a man, who called me by my name, and demanded of me wherefore I did per∣secute him. I speak (Sirs) before God and before you with all sincerity, that I felt my self strongly sur∣prised, and I demanded of him that spake unto me, who he was? to which he made answer, That he was called Jesus, and that it was difficult for me to strike my heels against the sharps of the spurre. And immediately, as I lay in amazement prostrate on the ground with those that were with me, he commanded me to rise, and said unto me, That he would make choice of me for his people, and for the Nations of the earth, to give a testimony of him and to draw them from the power of wicked Spirits to come unto the Light, that they may obtain remission of sins and the inheritance of Saints by the means of Faith, which subsisteth in Jesus Christ.

Sirs, For this I was not rebellious to the heavenly Vision, but incontinently I set my self to preach the Word of God, and to exhort all the world to con∣vert themselves unto him by the works of Peni∣tence. Behold all my fault, having done not any thing against the Law, the Temple, or against Cesar; having alwayes counselled all the Subjects that ever heard me in the Empire, to render unto him perfect obedience. Neverthelesse, certain of the Jews caused me to be apprehended in the Temple, and excited the people against me, who had torn me in pieces, if I had not been succoured by the Armies and the Legi∣ons of the Empire. God hath preserved my life until this present, to discharge the Ministery and the Commission that he hath given me, which is, to deliver to the Nations the news of eternall Sal∣vation.

Sirs, I do observe you to be great observers of the Religion of the Gentiles; you have Idols, and Tem∣ples most magnificent, but we ought not to imagine that God who is a most pure Spirit, the Creatour of heaven and earth, is inclosed in Temples built by the hand of men, or that he stands on need of their works for the accomplishment of his Glory. It is he that giveth life, breath, wealth, honour, profit, and all that we can hope for in this world. It is he who from one man hath derived the vast multitude of the people, who by a continuall succession do inhabite the roundnesse of the earth. It is he who giveth measures unto Times, and bounds unto Empires, and who inhabiteth a Light unapproachable. It is he who inspires us all with a generous curiosity to seek him, and to do our endeavours to find him, and to touch him with fingers if his condition render him palpable. But he is not farre from every one of us, For in him we live, we move, and have our being: and to speak according to your own Poet, We are of the generation of God.

It is not then permitted to vilifie the Divine na∣ture beneath us, and to make it like unto things in∣sensible: as, to gold, silver, precious stones, and other materials, elabourate by art, and by the invention of men. And certainly, God from on high hath with compassion beheld this ignorance of men, and hath given them his Sonne the substantiall Image of his Beauties, and the Character of his Glory; true God, and true Man, who is dead for our sins, to wash us and regenerate us in his Bloud, whose Words are Truth, and whose Life a miracle, even to the triumph∣ing over Death by his Resurrection. It is by him that the eternall Father will judge at the last both the quick and the dead, and we all shall be represent∣ed before the Throne of his Majesty, to receive the salary of the Good or Evill which in our bodies we have done.

This sovereign Monarch of Angels and of Men suffers not himself to be taken by the flesh or the bloud of bullocks, or by the perfumes of incense, but by the exercise of Justice, and by the purity of our bodies in all sanctification. Therefore (Sirs) as he hath advanced you in Dignity above other men, so he hath more particularly obliged you to acknow∣ledge and serve him, and to adore him in Spirit and Truth, and to render Justice according to the Com∣mission which you have received from Cesar; which is, to deliver the innocent from the persecution of the insolent, that so being true imitatours of his Ju∣stice and Mercy, you may be one day partakers of his Glory.

This Discourse was well received by divers of them, * 1.69 and a day was appointed for another Appearance, where he so much explained and enlarged himself, that he was sent back and pronounced guiltlesse; and per∣mitted to preach the Gospel in Rome with all liberty, which gave much encouragemt to all the faithfull, and even those who had before forsaken him, did now re∣assemble themselves, preaching in the Name of Jesus, * 1.70

and exhorting all the world to Repentance. Cor∣nelius reports the opinion of some men who affirm that Saint Paul was expresly delivered by the ad∣vice and the authority of Seneca, who at that time be∣gan miraculously to delight in his conversation. And although they could not see one another as often as they would by reason of the considerations of State, yet they mutually did write to one another, which hath given occasion to some weak men who have not their spirits to counterfeit their letters ill imitated, and which all knowing men are assured, to be not of the strain either of S. Paul or Seneca. Howsoever the fiction of the style doth no way hinder the truth of the anti∣ent Deed, seeing that S. Hierome doth cite the true Letters which were in his time, and doth alledge the Texts which are not now to be found in the Libraries of the Fathers. Saint Paul continued at Rome two years after his first voyage, where he gained many Christians to the Faith, and some of the Court of Nero, as is declared in his Epistles. Seneca was amazed at the Authority which he had, and desired that he might enjoy amongst his the like opinion of Belief as S. Paul had amongst the Christians; but there was a difference in their spirits, and their proceedings were from divers Methods. Seneca was a man, and S. Paul * 1.71 a demy-God. The one studied with Attalus and So∣cion, the other had the Word for his Doctour, and the Angels for his Disciples. The one sought after Na∣ture, the other found out the God of Nature. The one lahoured after Eloquence, the other studied Silence which is the father of Conceptions. The one pleaded the Causes of parties, the other pleaded the Cause of God. The one governed the Republick of men, the other laid open before us the Hierarchy of Angels. The one was in the porch of Zenon, the other in the school of Jesus. The one laid the world low at his feet with his golden words, and when he pleased did carry it on his head, the other subdued it with mortifi∣cation and the arms of the Crosse. The one was full of good Desires, the other of great Effects. The one sought for himself in himself, the other found himself altogether in God. The one was a Minister of State, the other of Heaven. The one promised much and performed little, the other promised nothing of himself and gave all things. The one lived in the Court of Nero, the other in the Courts of Jesus Christ. The one defied Persecutions in his Discourse, the other did bear them engraven in his Body. The one had a con∣siderable estate, the other had nothing yet possessed all things. The life of the one was exposed to Ho∣nours and the Delights of the world, the Life of the other was altogether composed of the Crosse.

To conclude all in few words, Seneca had excellent * 1.72 Precepts of Virtue, but he derived them from an evill Principle, which was, to hold fast to himself, and to conceive that by his own power he was sufficient of himself without any need of assistance from above, in∣asmuch that we may imagine that we hear him speak, That a Wiseman may passe by God and take no great notice of him, and live without him as contentedly as himself. From this great Illusion proceeded Arrogance, from Arrogance, Ignorance of the Truth; from Igno∣rance, Feeblenesse; from Feeblenesse, a Confusion both in the life and in all the wisdome of the Stoicks.

From hence it came to passe that having braved it on the paper, they found themselves too short for great actions, and had their pens farre longer then their hands. They made a flight but without one wing to virtue, contenting themselves to have brought some weak leni∣tives to their malady, and not endeavouring to rout it out.

And although that Seneca did live uprightly ac∣cording to the Morall Virtues, yet being forcibly tied to the world by his Honours, Dignities, Riches, the * 1.73 Cares of this life, and his indeavours to preserve him∣self at Court, he could not dispense any strong influence on the body of the Estate, by reason of the defect both of Example and Practice. The Sun and the Moon may both make a Rain-bowe in the front of heaven, but that of the Moon will be feeble and obscure in compari∣son of that of the Sun, which will be all luminous and immailed with Emerauds and with Rubies. Seneca did make at Rome a Rain-bowe of the Moon which had in it much imperfection, and clouds, and dark∣nesse. But S. Paul made the Rain-bowe of the Sun vi∣sibly, producing the brightnesse and the beauties of the eternall Wisdome.

As the Principles therefore of the Philosophy of * 1.74 Seneca were to reduce all to himself, and to study his own particular consent; so the Principles of S. Paul were quite contrary to attribute all to the Grace of Je∣sus Christ, and in the imitation of him, to love, desire, and seek after the Crosse, and the Persecutions attend∣ing on it. In those two Maximes, he doth establish all the Greatnesse and the Glory of the City of God, which he doth prove, deduce, and presse with instant importance in all his Epistles. As for that which per∣tains to the Grace of Redemption, never man before him spake more clearly or more divinely then he hath done in his Epistles to the Romans, to the Galathians, and to the Hebrews. He is the thundering and the lightning Cherubin on the chariot of the God of Hosts, who ceaseth not to shoot forth his inevitable and his flaming arrows against the head of the pompous Wis∣dome of this world.

He makes it apparent how all the antient Philoso∣phers who were thought to be the Gods of Sciences and Letters, do vanish away in their proud imaginati∣ons, and how they are faln into a Reprobate sence: blind and ignorant, who have transformed the Divini∣ty into hideous forms of serpents and monsters: feeble and caytiffe, who having filled their books with Pre∣cepts, have abandoned themselves to base and shame∣full actions, and have overthrown all the order of Na∣ture. From hence also he makes another Battel against the Jews, who tied their happinesse and salvation to a dying Law, to feeble Elements, to Shadows flying be∣fore the first Rayes of the law of the Gospel. He pri∣sed nothing but the Incarnate Word, he breathed forth nothing but his Jesus, who is the Desire of the eternall Mountains, the Splendour of the Glory of the celestiall Father, the Character of his Substance, who by the virtue of his Word doth support the Universe, who is our Wisdome, our Justice, our Sanctification, and our Redemption; there being no Name either in heaven or earth, or on or under the waters by which we may be saved, but the Name of Jesus.

His second Principle is the love of the Crosse, and he doth publickly and loudly protest both to the great and to the small, to the proud and to the humble, that there is no Knowledge but in the crucified Jesus; and that he is not come to preach him to them with painted Words according to the Wisdome and the Eloquence of men (fearing by that means to make void the my∣stery of the Crosse) but with the Virtue, and the force of the God of the afflicted. He esteems of Sceptres, of Empires, of Nobility, of Beauty, of Strength, of Valour, of Wisdome, of Industry, of Eloquence, of all things in this world from Heaven unto the Deep•• but as dung, in comparison of the Crosse of his beloved Jesus, on which by love he had ascended, and there did rest as on a Throne, from whence he condemned what∣soever this world did honour.

By these two Principles, he arrived unto a most

great Perfection which did fill him as well in the In∣tellectuall * 1.75 part as the Affective. As for that which concerns the former, he was enlightned with a most high and a most excellent Wisdome, with the know∣ledge of all Nature, with all the mysteries of our Faith, with whatsoever is in Man, with whatsoever the World locks from him in her Treasuries, with Grace in all her Virtues, and with Time in all the Turns and the Revolutions of his Being.

According to the heighth that the river Nilus riseth, * 1.76 the other rivers do decrease; and accordingly as Saint Paul did increase in the Wisdome of God, all hu∣mane Science fell down before him even into the Abysme. It is he who with all humility can speak that which Lucifer did usurp by pride, I sit in the * 1.77 Chair of God, I have been in the heart of the Deeps. He was in the Chair of God when he spake as if he had been inclosed in the Word, as the Vicar of his Powers; the Dispenser of his Mysteries; the Oracle of his Thoughts; and the Interpreter of his Will. He was in the heart of the Deeps when he was abysmed in the profound knowledge of the Beauties and the Perfections of the Incarnate Word, of whom he never did lose the sight.

What an Abysme of Patience was he? what a * 1.78 Trumpet of the Gospel saith S. Dennis? What a roar∣ing of the Lion saith S. Hierome? What a Flow of Learning, what a Torrent of Eloquence? who makes us to understand the Mysteries unknown in all Ages, and that as much by his Admiration as his Words. He wrote his Epistles with his Ear in Heaven, and with a Style in the School of Paradise. The feeble∣nesse of humane Words could not sustain the force of his Spirit.

In the Affective part, he was filled with a Sera∣phick * 1.79 Love, with a fire drawn from the most pure flames of Heaven, which was shut up within his heart and within his bones, and did uncessantly burn him without consuming him. On his mortified flesh he did bear the Characters of a suffering God, which were his dearest Delights. He was no more himself; he was all and altogether transfigured into that amia∣ble Word by a Deifick transanimation. He lived on his Bloud; he breathed not but by his Spirit; he spake not but by his Words; he thought not but by his Me∣ditations: yet neverthelesse, in some manner he did leave God and the delicious School of Paradise, to run unto his Neighbour to save his Soul; and in this exer∣cise of Charity, he defied Tribulation, Anguish, Hun∣ger, Nakednesse, Dangers, Persecutions, and bloudy Swords, and burning Fagots, and boiling Caldrons. If Hell it self were portable he would adventure to have carried it on his back for the love of his Neighbour.

He looked upon the world as if every mothers son were of his begetting; he carried in his heart Europe, and Asia, and Af••ick, and all the Provinces of the Earth, to communicate the Light of the Gospel either by himself, or by his children whom already he had begotten in Jesus Christ. Nothing rebated him, no∣thing hindred, nothing stopped him. He gave no bounds to his Love since God had given no limits to his Spirit. With these fair and extraordinary qualities, God gave him Successe in the preaching of the Go∣spel, which did draw upon him the admiration of all the Apostles.

He marched in triumph through all Provinces; and God was on his heart. He was like unto that Ark of the Testament which is spoken of in the Revelations, * 1.80 which at the same time that it was perceived did cause a Lightning to be seen, a Voice to be heard, the Hail to rattle, and the Earthquakes to roar; so, wheresoever S. Paul did passe, there were the Light of Learning, the Oracles of Wisdome, the impetuous Tempest of words of fire, which made the Philosopers and Kings to tremble, and even removed Nature it self. Behold here the difference which was between S. Paul and Seneca, which being well considered we shall forbear to admire, wherefore one was so fruitlesse in the Court of Nero, and the other had so great successe in Rome, and amongst so many Nations.

After that Paul was for a season retired from Rome, * 1.81 leaving unto Seneca a strong tincture of the Christian Faith, Nero did every day grow worse and worse, in∣somuch, that having killed his brother, his wife, his mother, this scourge of mankind in the wicked jollity of his heart had a plot in his head to set the City of * 1.82 Rome on fire, which was almost wholly consumed with it, whiles he from a high tower did behold it, and laughing at the calamity, did sing the burning of Troy the great; which did so exasperate the spirits of his Subjects, that on the year following, the chief of the Empire did enter into a conspiracy against him, in which were comprised, Senatours, Captains, Colonels, * 1.83 Citizens, Ladies, and all the choicest personages in Rome: but misfortune so would have it, that the secret being dispersed amongst so many people, it did not an∣swer the event to which it was designed, but being dis∣covered, it occasioned a bloudy butchery in Rome, Nero like an enraged Tygre desiring nothing more then to bathe himself in bloud.

Seneca's name was entred at the last in the list of the * 1.84 Conspiratours, whether his Scholar had conceived a jealousie against him, mistrusting his high Virtue, and fearing lest he should tear the Diadem from his head, or whether the insolence of his deportments had put him into that condition as not to indure the very sha∣dow of a Tutor. It was now a long time since this great personage overcome with grief at so many tragi∣call accidents did leade a retired life in his Countrey∣house not farr from Rome. There was not against him any manifest conviction to rank him amongst the Con∣spiratours, as Tacitus hath observed. It is onely said that one of that number named Natalis did depose be∣fore Nero that he was sent to Seneca by Piso, who was the chief of the Conspiratours, to complain that he would not suffer him to give him a visit, and to medi∣tate an enterview to which Seneca made answer, that such a meeting in so dangerous and so fatal a time could be profitable neither to the one nor to the other, and as for the rest, that his life subsisted not but in the safety of the life of Piso.

On this, the Tribune of the Emperours Guard was dispatched to Seneca, to understand what answer he could make to the Deposition of Natalis. On the evening he arrived at Seneca's house which he suddenly invironed with a troop of Souldiers. He was no soon∣er entred, but he found him at supper with his wife and two friends, he presently acquainted him what he had in Commission from the Emperour; on which, Seneca confessed that Natalis indeed was sent unto him by Piso, to intreat him to receive a visit from him, but he excused himself by reason of indisposition and retired∣nesse, without speaking one word more unto him; ad∣ding, that he had never so high an esteem of Piso, as to judge that the safety of his life did depend upon him, thar such flattery was not suitable to his disposition, and that Nero knew it very well, who by experience had alwayes found in Seneca more of Liberty then of Servitude.

The Tribune made a faithfull report of Seneca's an∣swer in the presence of Poppea that impudent woman, and Tigillinus that execrable villain, who in those cruel designs were the onely two that were now of his Ma∣jesties

sacred Counsel. This barbarous Prince who had promi∣sed his Tutor that he would rather die then permit that any of∣fence should be done unto him, did bear that respect unto him as not to question him on that Conspiracy amongst so many other Senators; peradventure he had not a brow of brasse enough to outface the reproaches of so eloquent a mouth. He demand∣ed of the Tribune if he did not prepare himself to a voluntary death, who made answer, That he observed not the least sign of it, either in his countenance or discourse; whereupon he was com∣manded to return to Seneca, and to signifie unto him that he must die. The Tribune, whether in reverence to the man, or for fear to precipitate the death of such a Minister of the State by too hasty an execution, demanded counsel of Fannius his Captain what in this case he ought to do, who did advise him to execute the command of the Emperour; and this was done by a sloth fatall to all of the Conspiracy, some Ladies onely excepted, who shewed themselves more courageous then the Senatours and the Cavalliers.

Howsoever, he having not the heart to carry these heavy ti∣dings, did deliver his Commission to a Centurion, who inform∣ed him with the last of all necessities. Seneca, without troubling himself, desired so much liberty as to make his Will, which was refused him: On which, he turned to his friends and said, That since it was not permitted to him to acknowledge their merit, that he would leave unto them the very best of all he had, which was the Image of his Life; in which, if they would please to call to mind how he had passed it in so many commendable Exer∣cises, they should enjoy for their recompence the reputation of a faithfull and a constant friendship. And this he spake not out of arrogance, but as it were by the authotity of a Father when he bids his last Farewell unto his Children, recommending to them to imitate him in what he had done well; and so said S. Paul to his Disciples, Be you imitatours of me as I am of Jesus Christ.

This made their hearts to melt, and they began all to weep, but he did endeavour to wipe away their tears, mingling sweet∣nesse with reproaches. What do you mean, he said? where are the Precepts of Philosophy? where is that Reason so long prepared against all the chances of humane Life? who is he that can be ignorant of the cruelty of Nero? and who did not see that after the death of his mother and his brother, there no∣thing remained but to adde unto it the murder of his Master and Governour.

After this Discourse which served for them all, he embraced his wife, gave her his last farewell; and having fortified her a∣gainst the terrours of the present dangers, he did intreat and con∣jure her to moderate her grief, and to sweeten the sorrows of her dear husband by the consideration of his life which was without reproach. He loved most tenderly that virtuous Lady, and did not cherish his own life but for her sake; saying sometimes, That he would spare himself a little the more, becaus•• in an old man there lived a young woman, who deserved that he should take care for her, and being not able to obtain from his dear Paulina that she should love him more fervently, her love being in the highest degree of perfection, she should obtain from him that he should use himself for her sake with the more indulgence.

This fair Lady observing all that had passed, said, That there was no longer life for her after the death of him whom she lo∣ved above all things in the world, and that she would keep him company in the other world. On that word he stood a little in a pause, and would not contradict her, as well for the glory of the action, as for the love which he did bear her, and for the fear he had to leave so dear a person to the affronts of an enemy, be therefore said unto her, My dear Love, I have shewed you the sweetnesse and the allurements of life, but I see you preferre un∣to it the honour of a generous death. I will not envy the exam∣ple of your Virtue, and although the constancy in our death shall be equall in us both, yet yours shall be alwayes more glorious then mine, for you contribute unto it a courage which is above your sex. Having said this, they caused their veins to be opened by one hand in the presence one of the other; and because the body of her husband was attenuated by great abstinence, and the bloud did issue but slowly from him, he gave order that there should be a new incision made in the veins of his legs and of his feet. The poor old man did endeavour to put himself all into bloud, and indured cruel dolours, but more in the body of his dear wife then in his own, which was the reason that he caused her to be conveighed into another chamber to mitigate a little the sorrows which one had for the other in beholding themselves to die with so much violence.

It is a wonderfull thing that this great man had so untroubled and so ready a spirit in so fatall an act. He called his Secretary to whom he did dictate his last Thoughts, which were full of a generous constancy. In the mean time, Nero having no particu∣lar hatred against Paulina, and considering that the death of so innocent a Lady would but render himself and his cruelty more abhorred, did command that her veins should be stopped, and the bloud stanched, which it appeared, that she suffered to her greater grief, both by the short time that she out-lived her hus∣band, and by the inviolable faith which she did bear unto his ashes; and she looked ever after as she were some prodigy, such abundance of bloud and so much spirits she had lost.

Seneca was yet remaining in the tedious pangs of death, when upon advice he demanded poyson of his Physicians, which had no operation at all, his members being already cold, and his body shut up against all the forces of the poyson. He caused himself therefore to be carried to a Bath, and taking some of the warm water, he sprinkled his servants with it that stood about him, say∣ing (according to Cornelius Tacitus) That he offered that water to Jove the deliverer; after which words he entred into the stove, and was stifled with the vapour that did arise from it.

Many grave Personages have conceived that he died a Chri∣stian; and though it is no easie matter to perswade those to this opinion who are possessed with another, and who speak but with little consideration on this subject, yet there are not wanting grounds to prove the truth thereof.

Flavius Dexter a most antient Historian, who hath compo∣sed a small Chronicle from the Nativity of our Saviour unto the fourth Age, affirmeth in expresse terms, that in the sixty fourth year, Seneca entertained good thoughts of Christianity, and that he died a Christian, although not a declared one.

S. Hierome in the Book of Ecclesiasticall Authours doth put him in the number of Saints, that is to say, of those who acknow∣ledge and confesse Jesus Christ.

Tertullian, a most grave Authour saith, that he was one al∣though not openly. S. Augustine in the City of God, alledgeth many excellent passages of a Book which Seneca undoubtedly did write against the Superstition of the Pagans, in which, he o∣verthrows all the Heathenish Religion of Rome, although he doth not vigorously perswade them to change it, for fear of trou∣bling the Estate. This Book was afterwards condemned and burned by the Enemies of our Religion. The holy Doctor doth observe, that he never spake ill of the Christians, although he hath violently inveighed against the Jews, which testifieth that he was endued with some good thoughts in the favour of it. His brother Gallio being Proconsul in Achaia, would never judge S. Paul for any fact of Religion, although the Jews did presse him to it with much importunity.

Adde to this, that our Seneca two years before his death did live a retired life, under the colour of indisposition of body, and would no more frequent the Temples of the Heathen; as also that he would not procure his own death before the Emperour expres∣ly had commanded it, as being then of the opinion of the Christi∣ans, who did forbid self-murder, and also that at last, that he did forbid the vain pomp and the vain ceremonies at his Funerals.

These Reasons being weighed do draw unto this Conclusion, That it is more beseeming our Religion to conceive well of the Salvation of Seneca, then to condemne him. The strongest Ob∣jection which can be made against this Opinion, is, That at his death Cornelius Tacitus doth make him to invoke on Jove the Liberatour. But no esteem ought to be given to this Argument, for Tacitus could not understand that which was altogether out of his knowledge, seeing that Seneca did never make open profes∣sion of Christianity, but kept that thought totally concealed from

Nero and all the Heathen. And we ought not to be amazed that he was not comprised in that search which was made for Chri∣stians, it being sufficiently manifest, that many illustrious Christi∣ans have lived in the Courts of the Heathen Emperours, and dissembled their Religion, they being not bound in conscience to declare it at all times, to run wilfully into Martyrdome. More∣over, this Historian above named, hath written divers things very lightly, especially when he maketh mention of the Religion of the Jews and Christians, which he describes rather according to his own Idaea then any wayes according to the truth; insomuch, that when Seneca at his death implored Jesus the Deliverer, he did not forbear to translate Jesus into Jove. As rashly as this, he leaves recorded to posterity, that the Jews are descended from the hill Ida, the name of which he saith the Jews do bear; and that they worship the head of an Asse; as also, that the Christi∣ans confessed that they were Incendiaries, and that they burned the city of Rome under Nero.

But we find by S. Paul himself in his Epistle written from Rome unto the Philippians, that he had many Christians in the house of Nero; and Linus the successour of S. Peter, who was there present at that time, doth rank Seneca amongst them with an high title of commendation: and though his History hath been corrupted by the Hereticks and the Ignorant, it is never the lesse received in those Points which are comformable to the other Fathers of the Church, so that Tacitus in this ought not to be considered.

This Name then of Redeemer or Deliverer whereof Tacitus maketh mention, and this sprinkling of the water which the Faithfull were accustomed to present to God in the manner of Libation, doth imploy some secret of which he never heard. And as for that Objection, that there are some opinions in Se∣neca's Books which are not conformable to the Christian Religi∣gion, it is of no value, seeing those Works were composed before his Christianity.

And to that which others do alledge, that he himself was the authour of his own death, it is most manifestly false, seeing he did not suffer a vein to be opened before the expresse command∣ment of the Emperour, who had pronounced against him the sentence of Death, as I have said already, which was afterwards executed according to the fashion of those times; in which, by the permission of Magistrates, the houshold-servants of the party condemned performed that office which belonged to the publick executioner of Justice. Besides this, in the beginning of Christia∣nity, Seneca who had but a light tincture of it, could not yet know that it was not allowable for him to assist his at his death, seeing that many Christian Virgins have killed themselves to di∣vert the violations by their designed ravishers, and yet have not been condemned for it.

S. Paul returning to Rome, according to the Calculation of Baronius, did find that Seneca was dead, and that he was depri∣ved of a great help in the propagation of the Gospel. Howsoever he desisted not with all his endeavour to advance with S. Peter the Christian Religion, which by and by they shall both bedew with their bloud.

For Nero to fill up the horrour of his crimes, did begin the first Persecution against the Christians. And it is our glory, saith Tertullian, that he was in the head of our Persecutours. The wicked Prince perceiving that he could not wipe away the evill reputation with which he was defamed for the burning of Rome, did cause the Christians to be accused; and did torment them with outrageous and inhumane punishments. Some were nailed to Crosses, distilling their bloud drop by drop in extremity of pain. Others by cruel inventions were covered with the skins of savage beasts and exposed to bandogs, who would fly upon them with a most violent rage and tear them in pieces. Others being fastned to blocks, were burned by degrees by fire, with Diabolicall art and sport, insomuch, that in the Evening, when the Sun made haste to bed, to be no longer polluted with such horrible spectacles, the bodies of the Faithfull being all on fire did serve as torches for the reprobate joyes of the Heathen. Nero would be then in his gardens to glut his barbarous eyes with the Torments of those innocent Souls. Happy ye Stars, who in the combats of that laborious night did behold so many victorious Souls ascend from the midst of the flames to take pos∣session of the Temple of eternall Lights. The Infidels themselves had compassion on them, knowing that it was an artifice of Nero's to sacrifice those poor Victims to his brutish cruelty.

Not long after, S. Peter and S. Paul did find themselves to be involved in the same Persecution; for as they endeavoured themselves to perswade Chastity to some Christian Ladies a∣gainst the allurements and surprisals of the Emperour, he grew enraged at it, and commanded them to be locked up in close prison, from whence some few dayes after they were taken forth to go to their Execution, where S. Peter was crucified with his head downwards, and S. Paul was beheaded, after they had converted many Souls, and even the Executioners themselves. They kissed one another with tears of joy, and with an assured pace they marched to their place of torment as to a garden ina∣melled with the most delightfull beauties of Nature. At every minute their sacred mouths did call upon the name of their most beloved Master; and the pleasures they resented to excommuni∣cate with him in his Sufferings, did not permit them to have the least fear of that which of all fears is the most horrible in Na∣ture. The Christians followed them melting into tears, calling them their Fathers and their Pastours, and besought them not to abandon their Flock. But they with countenances as clear as are the smiles of the fairest morning, did comfort them, and did promise not to forget them in the other life. They did exhort them to shew themselves courageous in Persecutions, assuring them that they were the places of Pleasure, where even the Thorns should grow into Crowns. They both looked back up∣on Rome, and beheld it as the field of their dearest Conquest. And God did discover to them the effects of their Bloud, how that Infidelity was subdued; the Church was established in the capitall City of the Universe; the Crosse was planted on the root of the Capitoll, where they died as amongst palms, and the odour of their Sacrifice did ascend to heaven.

As long as there shall be Intelligences and Stars above; as long as there shall be Ages and Men below, these two Apostles shall be beheld as the two Eyes of the Christian world. The Fathers and the Doctours of Mankind; the Gates of Heaven, and Triumphers over unbelieving Rome, which they have now con∣verted into Rome the Holy. At their Palmes all the Laurels of the Conquerours shall fade, and the instruments of their Punish∣ments shall obscure their Trophies. The tongues of men can pro∣nounce nothing more pleasing then their Name. The Church hath nothing more precious, then their Virtues; nor more powerfull, then their Examples; nor more honourable, then the Veneration of them. The detestable Nero the year after these Martyrs suffer∣ed, finding himself tormented with Furies, invested with infernall Shades, torn in his conscience by Vultures, and wounded with sharp Razors, being abandoned both by God and men, un∣derstanding that Vindex from France, and Galba was marching against him from Spain, to revenge his Sacriledges, he did fly away, and killed himself; it being impossible for him to die by a more polluted or a more execrable hand.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The estate of Rome and the Court of Nero when Paul came to it.
• * 1.2

  The birth and educa∣tion of Nero
• * 1.3

  The perfi∣diousnesse of his mo∣ther.
• * 1.4

  His cruelty towards Britannicus.
• * 1.5

  The love to his mother degenerated to misprision
• * 1.6

  Seneca by a lesse evil diverts a greater.
• * 1.7

  His mo∣ther inraged
• * 1.8

  Nero's pre∣sent to his mother.
• * 1.9

  The fond love of pa∣rents chast∣ned by God in their children.
• * 1.10

  Suer. ca. 35. in Nero ne.
• * 1.11

  The horri∣ble attempt of Nero up∣on his mo∣ther.
• * 1.12

  The amaze∣ment of Nero.
• * 1.13

  The death of Agrippina.
• * 1.14

  Nero conti∣nueth his cruelties,
• * 1.15

  He salls in love with poppea, and estrangeth himself from his wise Octavia
• * 1.16

  A hottible calumny.
• * 1.17

  Johannes Sarisburien∣sis.
• * 1.18

  From whence proceeded the calum∣nies against Seneca.
• * 1.19

  His birth.
• * 1.20

  His Educa∣tion and Spirit.
• * 1.21

  The fury of Caligula against him.
• * 1.22

  Dion doth distinguish them in his 9. Book, and Suetonius chap. 29.
• * 1.23

  Calumny against Julia and Seneca,
• * 1.24

  Seneca be∣nished to Corsica where he composed excellent works.
• * 1.25

  Seneca did well to de∣sire and procure his liberty.
• * 1.26

  The excel∣lent Com∣plement of Seneca.
• * 1.27

  The revolu∣tion at Court and the return of the ba∣nished.
• * 1.28

  Seneca re∣turns into high repute.
• * 1.29

  The man∣ners of Se∣neca.
• * 1.30

  Epist. 108.
• * 1.31

  Seneca made a Li∣bel against Claudius.
• * 1.32

  He is made Minister of State.
• * 1.33

  His judge∣ment on Nero.
• * 1.34

  He put his State in good order.
• * 1.35

  The Ma∣ximes of Se∣neca.
• * 1.36

  Of God.
• * 1.37

  Of Religion
• * 1.38

  Lactan. div. Instit. lib. ••. cap. 25.
• * 1.39

  Of the di∣vine pre∣sence Epist. 83.
• * 1.40

  Of Provi∣dence.
• * 1.41

  Of the Im∣morrality of the Soul. Juv••e de 〈◊〉〈◊〉 anima•••••• q••••rere, ••mò credere. Epist. 102.
• * 1.42

  Epist. 86.
• * 1.43

  His opinion of the sove∣reign good.
• * 1.44

  The answer to the ca∣lumniatours of Seneca.
• * 1.45

  His falling off from Agrippina••
• * 1.46

  He is excu∣sable for making the Declaration
• * 1.47

  Why Seneca having so many gal∣lant quali∣ties did per∣form so lit∣tle in the re••ormation of Manners.
• * 1.48

  Serrar. Baran. Cornel.
• * 1.49

  S. Paul came to Rome.
• * 1.50

  S. Paul falsly accused.
• * 1.51

  Baron. Chri∣sti, Anno 39 Cornel. in 2. apud Corin. cap. 11.
• * 1.52

  His conver∣sation with S. Peter.
• * 1.53

  Gal. 1. 18. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.54

  He preach∣eth the Go∣spel.
• * 1.55

  A great per∣secution against him.
• * 1.56

  S. Paul con∣demned to the whip, did divert that punish∣ment.
• * 1.57

  His Address
• * 1.58

  He is com∣mitted into the hands of Felix the President.
• * 1.59

  S. Paul be∣fore the Tribunall of Felix.
• * 1.60

  Drusilla comes to hear him.
• * 1.61

  Festus re∣news the Processe: S. Paul ap∣pealeth to Rome.
• * 1.62

  The young Agrippa King of Ju∣dea, with his sister Ber∣nice assist at the judgement of Paul.
• * 1.63

  Festus touched with the words of S. Paul.
• * 1.64

  S. Paul im∣barked for Rome.
• * 1.65

  He arriveth there, and treateth with the Jews.
• * 1.66

  2 Tim. 4. Phil. 1.
• * 1.67

  S. Paul u••∣doubted •••• known un••o Seneca.
• * 1.68

  S. Pauls O∣ration to the Senate of Rome.
• * 1.69

  The effect of his Ora∣tion.
• * 1.70

  Phil. 1. 13.
• * 1.71

  The parallel betwixt S. Paul and Seneca.
• * 1.72

  The evill o∣pinion of the Stoicks to trust al∣together to themselves, without ac∣knowledg∣ing the Grace and the as∣sistance of God.
• * 1.73

  Wherefore Seneca pre∣vailed so lit∣tle for the reformation of Manners at the Court.
• * 1.74

  The Grace of Jesus, and the Crosse, are the two Principles of S. Paul.
• * 1.75

  S. Paul his Perfection.
• * 1.76

  His high knowledge.
• * 1.77

  Ezek. 28.
• * 1.78

  Dion. de Di∣vin. Nomin. S. Hierom. Epist. 6. ad Pammach.
• * 1.79

  His Love.
• * 1.80

  Apoc. 21.
• * 1.81

  Saint Paul leaves Rome. Nero grows worse and worse.
• * 1.82

  Anno Neron. 10. Chron. 66.
• * 1.83

  The Con∣spiracy a∣gainst him detected.
• * 1.84

  The con∣stant and the famous death of Seneca.