A treatise of the difference bbtwixt [sic] the temporal and eternal composed in Spanish by Eusebius Nieremberg ... ; translated into English by Sir Vivian Mullineaux, Knight ; and since reviewed according to the tenth and last Spanish edition.

CAP. VII.

How miserable a thing is this Temporal Life.

LEt us also consider more particularly the substance and bulk of humane life, which we so much e∣steem, and we shall not a little wonder, how so many and so great misfortunes can happen in so short a space. Whereupon Phalaris the Agregentin was used to say, That if a man before he was born, knew what he was to suffer in life, he would not be born at all. For this reason some Philosophers repenting that they lived, would blaspheme Nature, railing at it with a thousand complaints and injuries, because to the best of living things it had given so bad and wretched a life: not reaching so high as to know that this was an effect of the fault of man, and not a fault of Na∣ture or Divine Providence. Pliny would say, That Nature was but a Stepmother to mankind; and Si∣lenus being demanded, what was the greatest happiness man was capable of, said, Not to be born, or die quickly. The great Philosopher and Emperour Marcus Aurelius considering humane misery spake in this discreet man∣ner.* 1.1

The warre of this life is dangerous, and the end and issue of it so terrible and dreadful, that I am certain, that if any of the ancient should rise a∣gain, and recount unto us faithfully, and give us a view of his life past from the time he came out of his Mothers womb unto his last gasp, the body re∣lating at large the pains and griefs it hath suffered, and the heart the alarms it hath received from for∣tune, that all men would be amazed at a body, that had endured so much, and at a heart, that had gained so great a victory, and dissembled it. I here confess freely, and although to my shame, yet for the pro∣fit,

that may redound to future ages, that in the space of fifty years, which I have lived, I have de∣sired to prove the utmost of all the vices and excesses of this life, to see if the malice of man had any bounds and limits; and I finde after long and seri∣ous inquisition, that the more I eat, the more is my hunger: and the more I drink, the greater is my thirst: if I sleep much, the more is my desire to sleep: the more I rest, the more weary and indisposed I finde my self: the more I have, the more I covet, and the more I grasp the less I hold. Finally, I at∣tain to nothing, which doth not surfeit and cloy me, and then presently I abhorre it, and desire something else.

This is the judgement of Philoso∣phers concerning the miseries of mans life. The same is that of the Wiseman,* 1.2 when he sayes, All the dayes of man are full of grief and misery; neither do his thoughts rest at night. * 1.3 With reason did Democritus say, That the life of man was most miserable, since those who seek for Good, hardly finde it, and Evil comes of it self, and enters our gates unsought for; insomuch as our life is alwayes exposed unto innumerable dangers, injuries, losses, and so many infirmities, that, accord∣ing to Pliny, and many Physicians Greeks and Ara∣bians, there were more than thirty several sorts of new diseases discovered in the space of a few years; and now every day they finde out others, and some so cruel, as they are not to be named without horrour. Neither speak I onely of the infirmities, but of their remedies. For even griefs known and common are cured by cauterizing with fire, by sawing off a member, by tripanizing the scull, or drawing bones from it. Some have been cured with the opening the belly, and drawing forth the guts. Others by reason of the great malice of the disease are cured with so strange diets, that the sick persons (as Cornelius Celsus writes) have for very thirst drunk their Urine, and eaten their Plasters for raging hunger. Others are pre∣scribed

to eat Snakes, Mice, Worms, and other loath∣some Vermin. But above all the cure of Palaeologus the Second, Emperour of Constantinople, was most cruel and extravagant: whose infirmity after a years continuance found no other remedy but to be conti∣nually vext and displeased, his Wife and Servants, who most desired his health, having no wayes to re∣store it, but by disobedience, still crossing and oppo∣sing him in what he most desired; a harsh cure for a Prince. If remedies be so great evils, what are the infirmities? The sickness of Angelus Politianus was so vehement, that he knockt his head against the walls: That of Mecoenas so strange, that he slept not, nor clo∣sed his eyes in three whole years: That of Antiochus so pestilential, that his loathsome smel infected his whole Army, and his body (as hath been said) flowed with lice and vermin. Consider here the end of Majesty, when the greatest power of the Earth cannot defend it self against so noisome and so contemptible an enemy. In the same manner Feretrina, Queen of the Barcaeans, all the flesh of her body turned into maggots and grubbs, that swarming every where at last consumed her. Some have had serpents bred in their arms and thighs, which have devoured their flesh even whilest they lived. With reason then does man enter into the World with tears, as divining the many miseries, which he shall have time enough to suffer, but not to lament, and therefore begins to weep so early.

§. 2.

Strange Pestilences.

* 1.4WHat shall I say of those strange pestilential in∣firmities, which have destroyed whole Cities, & Provinces? Many Authors write that in Constantinople there happened so strange a Plague, that those, who

were infected with it, thought they were kill'd by their next neighbours, and falling into this frenzie died raging with fear and imagination that they were murthered by their friends. In the time of Heraclius there was so mortal a Pestilence in Romania, that in a few dayes many thousands died, and the greater part of those, who were struck, flung themselves into the River to asswage that excessive heat, which like a fire burnt their entrails. Thucidides a Greek Author writes, that in his time there was such a corruption of the air, that an infinite of people died, and no re∣medy could be found to mitigate that disaster; and which was most strange, if any by good hap recovered, they remained without memory at all of what was past: in so much as the Fathers forgot their Sons, and Husbands their Wives. Marcus Aurelius, an Au∣thor worthy of credit, speaks of a Plague in his time so great in Italy, that it was easier to number the quick than the dead. The Souldiers of Avidius Cassius being in Seleucia, a City within the Territories of Babylon, entred into the Temple of Apollo, and finding there a Coffer, which they imagined might contain some treasure, opened it, from whence issued so pestilenti∣al and corrupted an air, that it infected the whole Region of Babylon, and from thence passed into Greece, and so to Rome, still corrupting the air as it went, in so much as the third part of mankinde remained not alive.

The calamities of the times nearer ours have been no less. For as our sins decrease not, so the justice of God in punishing us slakes not. A year after Francis King of France was married to Donna Leonora of Au∣stria, there raigned in Germany strange infirmity; Those, who were infected with it, sweating forth a pe∣stilential humour died within four and twenty hours. It began in the West, but passing afterwards into Ger∣many it raged with such fury, as if it meant to extirpate all mankinde; for before any remedy could be found,

there died so many thousands of people, that many Townes and Provinces remained desert. Such was the putrifaction of the air, that it left almost nothing alive; and those few, that remained, in signe of pen∣nance, and to avert the wrath of God, went signed with red Crosses. They write that it was so violent in England, that not onely men died, but birds left their nests, their eggs, and young ones, the wilde beasts quitted their Dennes, and snakes and moles were seen to goe in companies and troopes, not being able to endure the poyson enclosed in the bowells of the earth; and many creatures were found in heapes dead under trees, their bodies broken out into blanes and botches. The yeare 1546. the last of May began in Stix (a City of Provence) a most mortal pestilence, which lasted nine moneths; in which died an infinite number of people of all ages; in so much as the Church∣yards were so full of dead bodies, as there was no room left to bury others. The greatest part of those, who were infected, the second day became frantick and flung themselves out of windowes, or into wells; others fell into a flux of blood at the nose, which if they stanched they instantly died. Married women became abortive, or at four moneths end they, and what they went with died, whom they found covered over with spots something blewish on one side, which seemed like blood sprinkled over their body. The evil was so great, that Fathers forsook their Children, and Women their Husbands; Riches did not preserve them from dying of hunger, a pot of water being not sometimes to be had for money. If they found by chance what to eat, the fury of the sickness was such, as they often died with the morsel in their mouths. The contagion became so great, that many took it by being onely looked upon; and the ayr of the City was so corrupted by the grievous heat of this pestilential evil, that wheresoever the steam of it came, it raised great blisters, mortal sores and carbuncles. O how monstrous and horrible a thing it

is, to hear the relation of the Physician, who was ap∣pointed for the cure and government of the sick? This infirmity, saith he, was so sharp and perverse, that neither Bleeding, Purging, Treacles, nor other Cor∣dials could stay it; it kill'd and bore down all before it, in so much as the onely remedy, which the infected persons hoped for, was death, of which being certain, so soon as they found themselves ill, they began to make their Winding-sheets; and there were ten thou∣sand who wore them whilest they yet lived, knowing certainly that the remedy and end of their evil was to die: and in this manner stood expecting the departure of the soul, and the fearful separation of the two so dear friends and companions: which he affirms to have seen in many persons; especially in one woman, who calling him at her window to appoint something for her infirmity, he saw sewing her Winding-sheet; and not long after those who were appointed to in∣terre the dead, entring the house found her stretched out upon the floor, her Winding-sheet not yet finish∣ed. To all this is humane life subject. Let those therefore who are in health and jollity fear what may befall them.

§ 3.

Notable Famines.

FAmine is no less a misery of mans life than Pesti∣lence, which not onely particular persons, but whole Provinces have often suffered. Such was that which afflicted the Romans, when Alaricus that arch-Enemy of Mankind after the destruction of all Italy besieged Rome. The Romans came to that poverty, famine, and want of all things, that having nothing left of that which men commonly use to eat, they be∣gan to feed on Horses, Dogs, Cats, Rats, Dormice, and other vermin, where they could lay hold on them;

and when those failed, they eat one another. A hor∣rible condition of humane nature, that when God suffers us to fall into those straights, our necessity for∣ces us to feed upon our own kind. Nay, Fathers spare not their Sons, nor Women those, whom they have brought forth. The same happened in the Siege of Jerusalem, as Eusebius recounts in his Ecclesiastical History. At the Siege of Numantia, when Scipio had cut off all provisions from entring the Town, the In∣habitants fell into that mortal and dog-like famine, that every day they sallied forth to catch Romans, as if they had hunted after wilde beasts. Those whom they took they fed upon their flesh, and drunk their blood, as if they had drunk fountain water or fed up∣on Kid. They pardoned none; but such as fell into their hands were cut in quarters, and sold by pieces publickly in the Butchery; in so much as the flesh of a dead Roman was of greater value than the ransome of a live one. In the fourth book of Kings there is mention made of a Famine in Samaria, in the time of Elizeus the Prophet, which much exceeds this. The want of food was so great, that the head of an Ass was sold for 80 pieces of silver, and the fourth part of a small measure of Pigeons dung for 5 pieces. The most lamentable and inhumane was, that having spent all their provision, Women eat their own Chil∣dren; and one Woman complained to the King of Israel, that her neighbour had broken an Agreement made betwixt them, which was, That they should first eat her Child, and, that done, the others. I, sayes she, have complied with my obligation, and we have al∣ready eaten mine, and now she hath hid hers, and denies me my part. Which the King hearing rent his garments, and was struck with unspeakable sorrow. Josephus in the seaventh Book of the Wars of the Jews relates a story much like unto this,* 1.5 but executed with more fury, and after a more strange manner. There was, saith he, in Jerusalem, when it was besieged, a Lady

rich and noble, who had hid in a house of the City the most part of her wealth, and of the rest lived sparing∣ly and with great moderation. But she was not suffer∣ed to do so long; for the Souldiers of the Garrison discovering her stock in a short time bereaved her both of what she had within doors and without; and if she chanced at any time to be relieved by friends, or beg some little thing to asswage her hunger, they would take it from her, and tear the morsel out of her mouth. Seeing her self therefore destitute of all hope or coun∣sel, and certain to die of hunger, and no possible re∣medy left for her necessities, she began to arm her self against the laws of Nature, and beholding the Infant which hung at her breast, she cried out in this manner; O unhappy Son of a more unhappy Mother! how shall I now dispose of thee? where shall I preserve thee? things are driven to that exigent, that though I save thy life from famine, thou art certain to be a Slave to the Romans. Better it is, my Son, that thou now sustain thy Mother who gave thee being, and strike a terrour into those cursed Souldiers, who have left me no other way of subsisting; better that thou become an argument of pity unto future ages, and raise sorrow in hearts not yet born. At these words she cut the throat of her tender Infant, divided it in the middle, rosted one half and eat it, and laid aside the rest for another meal. She had no sooner ended this lamentable Tragedy, but the Souldiers entred; who smelling the rosted flesh began to threaten the Woman with death if she discovered not her store. But she distracted with rage and horrour of her act, and desiring nothing more than to accompany her dead Infant, without fear or being abashed at all re∣plied in this manner; Peace friends, we will share like brothers: and saying this, she fetched the half Child, and placed it upon the Table before them. At which hideous sight the Souldiers being amazed and confounded conceiv'd so great horrour and compassion

in their hearts, that they were not able to utter one word; but she to the contrary staring upon them with a wilde countenance full of fury and distraction, with a hoarse and broken voice, spake in this manner; Why, how now Masters, how comes this to pass? is not this my Son, the fruit of my own body? is not this my act? why do ye not then eat, since I have be∣gun unto you? are you perhaps more nice than a Wo∣man? are you more scrupulous than the Mother which bore it? for shame fall too; It is I who have eaten of it first, and 'tis I will bear you company in eating of the rest. But they not being able to behold so horrible a spectacle fled out of doors, and left the miserable Mother with that little which remained of her Son and all her wealth.

Unto these stories I shall add one more lamentable, in which will clearly appear unto what calamity hu∣mane life stands exposed. It is written by William Paradin, a man of great learning and diligence, in a Treatise of things memorable in his time. He relates it thus. In the year 1528 men were grown so dis∣solute in their lives, and so given over to all sorts of wickedness, that notwithstanding those cruel and bloody warres which then raigned in most parts of Europe, they humbled not themselves, nor converted unto their Lord God, but became every day worse, and fell into that extremity of vice and mischief, that God being offended let loose the sharp arrows of his wrath and vengeance against the Realm of France with such fury, that all men thought the final destru∣ction of that Kingdom was then come. The want of corn, wine, and other fruits of the earth, and the mi∣series and calamities of those times were such, as no Records ever mention the like. For five continued years, beginning at the year 1528, the four Seasons of the year never kept their due and natural course, but were in that confusion and disorder, that some∣times Autumn came in Spring, and Spring in Autumn,

Summer in Winter, and Winter in Summer; onely the unnatural Summer seemed to overcome the rest of the parts of the year, and the heat doubled his forces against his enemy the cold: insomuch as in De∣cember, January, and February, when the cold ought to season and mellow the earth with frost and snow, the heat was so excessive, that the ground was parch∣ed and burnt up; which was a most prodigious thing to behold. In all those five years there was no two dayes together of hard weather: neither those so in∣tense, as to glase the waters with the least shew of ice, by which excessive heat were bred in the bowels of the earth an infinite number of Vermin, Snails, Grubs, Worms, Lizards, and other creatures, which eat up the young and tender corn in the hearb, and much of it was devoured and consumed in the husk before it sprung up: which was the reason, that Wheat, which uses to sprout up divers sterns from one grain, hardly put forth one or two, and those so abortive, weak and dry, that in reaping time they gathered not half so much as they sowed, and sometimes nothing at all. This Famine lasted without cease or intermis∣sion five whole years; a thing so lamentable, that it is impossible for them to imagine who have not seen it. The people were so oppressed and afflicted with this mortal hunger, and many other evils which ac∣companied it, that it was pitiful to behold. For many who were rented men, and reasonable well to pass, left their Houses and Granges, and went from door to door like wanderers, begging an alms for Gods sake. Every day the number of the poor increased, in such a manner as it was fearful to behold them, going up and down in troops impossible to remedy, and dan∣gerous to suffer. For besides the fear and hazard of being robbed, to which necessity might without sin enforce them, the air was filled with stench and cor∣ruption from their breaths and bodies. To asswage their hunger, they fill'd themselves with all sorts of

hearbs good and bad, wholesome and poisonous; they ransackt all Gardens and Orchards, not sparing so much as the roots and stalks of Cabbages, and of them found not enough to satisfie their ravenous appetites; and failing of Pot-hearbs in the Gardens, they fell up∣on those which grew wilde in the Fields. Many of them boiled great caldrons full of Mallows and Thi∣stles, mingling with them a little Bran if they could get it; and with this stuffed their bellies like Porks. It was a wonderful thing to see their many exquisite inventions of making bread of seeds of Hearbs, of Roots, of Fearn, of Acorns, of Hay-seeds, forced and taught by hunger, the Mistress of the sloathful: ve∣rifying that, which is commonly said, Want and Ne∣cessity makes men seek out remedies not thought on, as it made those miserable people, seeing Hogs feed upon the roots of Fearn, to trie whether they could make bread of it, robbing the food even from Swine to sustain themselves; Which evidently demonstrates the wrath of God against the impurity and filthiness of our sins, since he permits men to fall into that ne∣cessity, as to feed and feast with those unclean crea∣tures. From hence were ingendred many sorts of in∣firmities: great companies of Men, Women, Boyes and Girles, young and old, of all ages, went up and down the streets naked, pale, shivering with cold, some swoln like Drums with Dropsies, others stretcht upon the ground half dead, and ready to draw the last gasp, and of such the Stables and Dunghils were full; others trembled as if they were infected with quicksilver, so as they appeared more like unto Ghosts and Fantoms than living men. But above all the great∣est pity was to behold thousands of Women, feeble, pale, and hunger-starved, charged with an infinite number of their poor languishing Infants, which dri∣ed up with hunger, could not so much as weep or de∣mand succour from their sorrowful and afflicted Mo∣thers, who could onely help them with their pitiful

and compassionate looks, of which rivers of tears which ran from their eyes were a sufficient witness; and this certainly was the most lamentable Scene of this miserable Tragedy. The same William Paradin writes, that in Lonhans, a Town of Burgundy, he be∣held a poor woman, who with all the diligence, she could use, had gotten a little morsel of black bread, which when she was about to have eaten, her Infant unto whom she gave suck, a boy of about a year old, who had never until then eaten bit, snatcht it out of her hand: at which the sorrowful Mother admiring, beheld with what greediness he devoured that little piece of drie bread, as savourly as if it had been a March-pane; which when he had eaten, the Mother pickt up the crums that fell from his mouth, intend∣ing to eat them her self, but the Infant fell into so great unquietness, and so violent a fit of crying, that she was forced to leave them; and truly it seemed the Child knew the scarcity of that kind of food, and was therefore unwilling of a companion. What heart so hard and inhumane, that would not burst at the sight of so rueful a spectacle? The same Author fur∣ther writes, That in another Village near unto this, two women not finding any thing wherewith to as∣swage their hunger, filled themselves with Sea Oni∣ons, not knowing the property of that venemous hearb, which in such a manner poisoned them, that the extremities of their hands and feet became green as the skin of a Lizard, and a corrupt matter flowed from betwixt their nails and flesh, for which not re∣ceiving help so soon as was requisite, they both died. There was no creature which became not an executio∣ner of the wrath of God. The poor labourers left their Lands and Inheritances in hope to be relieved by the Rich, who had long since heaped up great quantities of corn in their Granaries: from whom at the first they bought bread at excessive rates; afterwards, mo∣ney failing, they sold and pawned their Lands and In∣heritances

for vile and low prices: for that which was worth an hundred crowns was sold for ten. Such was the abominable and greedy avarice of the Usurers, as if it were not enough for the poor to be scourged by the wrath of God, and to have the Elements and Creatures declared their enemies, but Men themselves must become their Hangmen, and persecute and af∣flict their own kinde. The Extortioners perceiving the desired occasion, which the perverseness of the time offered them, lost it not, but had Brokers and Factors in the Villages to buy the Inheritances of the poor at what price they pleased; which the afflicted willingly parted with, that they might have wherewith to eat; and together with it sold their Cattle and Houshold∣stuffe, and the very necessaries of their persons: and would with all their hearts have pawned their bowels to have had wherewith to feed them. Besides this, ma∣ny of them saw not their Wheat measured, and were forced to take it as the Sellers pleased, who were no juster in their measure than the price. There were some Usurers, that bought a piece of Land for less money than the Notaries would take for drawing the Writings. After all this the poor Peasants saw them∣selves, their Wives and Children cast out of their Hou∣ses, and to die in Hospitals. All those miseries, which fall not under imagination, are found in the life of man.

§. 4.

Evils of Warre.

GReater than all these calamities, is that of Warre, which of the three Scourges of God, wherewith he uses to chastise Kingdomes, is the most terrible, as well because it is comonly followed by the other two, as for that it brings along with it greater punishments, and, which is worse, greater sins, whereof plagues

are free, in which all endeavour to be reconciled with God, and even those who are in health dispose them∣selves for death. The Pestilence is sent by God, who is all goodness and mercy, not passing through the hands of men, as warres doe. Wherefore David held it for a mercy that his people suffered pestilence and not warre, because he judged it better to fall into the hands of God then men. Famine also, although it brings with it some sins, yet it lessens others; though it be accom∣panied with many thefts, yet it sutes not so much with pride and vanitie; neither doeth it permit so many sorts of vices as are occasioned by Warre. To repre∣sent the calamities of Warre, it shall be sufficient to instance in some of those which have been inflicted upon Germany in our own times in these late Warres. A book whereof was set forth in another Countrey: whose Argument or Title I repeat not, (it is known) but it could not give an account of all. I shall onely pick out some few of them, setting apart those places, which were dispeopled and burnt, whereof there were 2000 Towns onely in the Dukedome of Bavaria. The cruelties, which the conquering Souldiers inflicted up∣on the poor people, onely to discover where their wealth lay, are such as were never heard of. One of their torments was, to tye a peece of match about their foreheads, and with a stick so to straighten and screw their temples, that the blood would often burst forth, and sometimes the very eyes and brains would start forth of their broken sculls. Others they left upon the floors of their houses, or stretcht out upon a table bound hand and foot, and so exposed them to be eat∣en by hungry Dogs and Cats; and it often happened that the starved Cats would tear their bellies, and feed upon their tripes and entrails. Others they hung up by the hands some distance from the ground, and kind∣led a fire under them: Unto others they chopt off their noses and ears with Chisels, and wore them in their hatbands, holding it for a great gallantry, and

him for the bravest man, who was the cruellest beast. Unto others they poured water into their mouthes by a Tunnel, until they had fill'd their bodies like a Tun, and then sat or stamped upon their bellies, until they made the water gush out at their mouthes and no∣strils: Others they tied unto a post, and flead them a∣live like a St. Bartholmew. From some they pluckt out gobbets of flesh with pincers; others they quartered and tore in pieces alive. They forced divers women, and after cut off their armes. Many were so barbarous as to eat Children; and one was known to take a small Infant, and holding it by one leg with his left hand to tear it in sunder with his right, and so to eat and suck the blood of it. The Prisoners which they took they bound not their hands, but made holes through their arms, and putting cords through them, dragged them after their horses. The bodies of men, after that they had drawn out their guts and entrails, served as Mangers wherein to feed their horses. They robbed all, killed and burned men in their houses; and some grave Magistrates, whose lives they spared, were made to serve and wait bare-headed at Table up∣on the meanest Souldiers. Many, that they might not see and suffer those miseries, poisoned themselves; and divers Maids, flying from the Souldiers lust, cast themselves headlong into rivers and were drowned. To these miseries of Warre were added Pestilence and Famine. Those who fled from the Enemy died of the Plague or hunger in the open fields: and there was none to bury them, but dogs and ravenous birds which eat them. Neither had those who died in houses a more honourable Sepulcher, but were likewise devour∣ed by rats and vermin, who were grown so bold, as sometime, if they were but one or two in a house, to eat them whilest they lived, their weakness being such as they were not able to defend themselves. But the men in many places, were revenged of this affront, and eat the rats, of which there were publick Sham∣bles,

where they were sold at high prices. Those Ci∣ties were esteemed happy which had such dainties to sell; in other places nothing was to be had, but what every one provided by his own diligence. They often went together by the ears about a Rat, and cut one another in pieces in the quarrel: and happy was he that got a quarter of such loathsome vermin. Horse-flesh was a great dainty, and they esteemed themselves very fortunate, who knew where to light on a dead Pack-horse. Certain women found a dead Wolf all pu∣trified and full of worms, and fed upon it as savourly, as if it had been a Kid. The bodies of Malefactors who hung upon Gibbets were not secure, nor did the dead escape that were buried in their Graves; both were stollen in the night to sustain the living. Neither were they free from this danger who were alive; for two women were known to kill a third and eat her. After such fresh examples it will not need to call to memory the calamities of former Warres. What is said is sufficient to express the miseries, which are in∣cident to humane life.

§. 5.

Miseries occasioned by humane Passions.

ABove all, the greatest calamities of Man's life are not Pestilence, Famine, or Warre, but humane Passions not subordinate to reason. Wherefore St. John Chrysostome sayes;* 1.6

Amongst all evils, Man is the most evil. Every Beast hath an evil, which is proper and peculiar unto it, but Man is all Evils. The De∣vil dares not approach a just man: but Man dares despise him. And in another place to the same pur∣pose. Man is compared to the beasts of the field.* 1.7 It is worse to be compared to a beast, than to be one; for it is no fault to be born an unreasonable crea∣ture, but to be endued with reason, and to be com∣pared

to a beast is a fault of the will; so as our un∣tamed passions make us worse than beasts.

It is not credible what one man suffers from the passions of an∣other. What did David suffer from the envy of Saul? Exile, hunger, dangers and warre. Naboth sooner lost his life by the covetousness of Achab, than he could have done by a plague. Elias was more afflicted with the desire of revenge in Jezabel, than if he had had the pestilence; for that made him weary of his life, and this would but have made him weary of his disease. What Plagues, or Warres, or Tortures were like the Ambition of Herod, which destroyed so many thousand Children? What contagion was more mortal than the cruelty of Nero and other Tyrants, who took a∣way the lives of so many innocent people to satisfie their fears or fancies? Wherefore Tully sayes;

Our desires are unsatiable,* 1.8 and do not onely destroy par∣ticular Persons, but entire Families, and ruine the whole Commonwealth. From desires spring hatred, dissentions, discords, seditions and warres.

What sorts of death and torments have not hatred and hu∣mane cruelty found out? What sorts of poison hath not the passion of Man invented? Orpheus, Orus, Me∣desius, Heliodorus, and other Authors have found five hundred several wayes of giving poison hiddenly: which have since been encreased by others. But in respect of what is this day known and practised they were ignorant. Nothing is now secure, since poison hath been given even in the shaking of hands, when men were to be reconciled and made friends. Onely in the sense of hearing it hath not yet found a door to enter: all the rest of the senses it hath mastered; with the smell of a Rose, with the sight of a Letter, with the touch of a Thread, with the taste of a Grape death hath found an entrance.

There is nothing brings more misery upon man than his passions, with which he pardons not himself. The proud man grieves and consumes for the felicity

of another: The envious dies to see a happy man live: The covetous man loses his sleep for what he hath no need of: The impatient man tears his bowels for that which imports not: and The cholerick man ruins him∣self for what no way concerns him. How many for not conquering one passion have lost their fortunes, their quiet, and their lives, both temporal and eter∣nal? Witness Aman, who desirng more reverence than was due to him lost his honour, wealth and life, and ended on a Gibbet. The ambition of Absolon rested not until it left him hang'd in a tree by the hair of his head. In the same manner the disordinate love of Am∣non, which made him first sick and pale, and distem∣pered him more than a burning fever, at last cost him his life. Unto many their unmortified passions have been like cruel Hangmen, which have sodainly berea∣ved them of their lives.* 1.9 Dubravius writes that Wen∣ceslaus King of Bohemia entred into so great fury a∣gainst a Courtier of his, for not giving him timely ad∣vice of an Uproar raised by Lisca in Prague, that he was like to have kill'd him with his own hands; but being witheld from defiling his Royal Majesty with the blood of his Vassal, he fell into an Apoplexie, and died immediately.* 1.10 The death of Nerva was likewise upon a sodain anger. And Pliny writes of Diodorus Cromus, that he sodainly died of shame, for that he was not able to answer a question proposed by Estibon. Through Fear, Grief, Joy, and Love many have died. I will onely relate here a lamentable story written by Paulus Jovius. * 1.11 A certain married man had lived long in adultery with so great scandal, that the Bishop of the City excommunicated both him and his Paramour, if they accompanied any more together. The man was so besotted with his passion, that contemning the Com∣mand of the Bishop, he went secretly one day to see his Mistress, who having repented of what was past, entertained him with harsh language, reprehended his impudency, and commanded him to depart her pre∣sence,

and never more to see her; But he still conti∣nuing in his madness began to call her ungrateful and unworthy, and in a rage clasping his hands toge∣ther and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, as if it were to complain of her unkindness, fell down stark dead, and in a moment lost both his life temporal and eternal: and his body was not suffered to be in∣terred in hallowed earth. If then our disordered passi∣ons be so hurtful unto our own lives, how dangerous and prejudicial are they unto the lives of others? Certainly if all other misfortunes were wanting, those were sufficient, which are caused by humane-passions. There is much to be suffered from the conditions of men, ill language, displeasing correspondencies, wil∣ful injuries, and perverse dispositions. All man is mi∣sery and cause of miseries. Who is so happy to content all, and be envied of none? who is so general a well∣doer, that no body complains of him? who so liberal, that finds not some ungrateful? who so esteemed, that some murmurers do not despise him? The Athenians found fault with their Simonides, because he talked too loud: The Thebans accused Panniculus, that he spit too much: The Lacedaemonians noted in Lycurgus, that he went hanging down his head: The Romans thought Scipio slept too much, and that he snorted too high: The Ʋticans were scandalized at Cato's eating too fast on both sides at once: They held Pom∣pey for rude and ill-bred, because he scratched his head with one finger: The Carthaginians spake ill of Hannibal, because he went open-breasted with his sto∣mack bare: Others laughed at Julius Caesar, because he was ill girt. There is none so upright, in whom envy or extravagant conditions will not find some∣thing to reprehend.

The greatest miseries are those, which men by their unbridled affections bring upon themselves. Whence proceeded that notable saying of Ecclesiastes, * 1.12 which far exceeded all that hath been spoken by Philosophers

concerning humane misery.

I praised (saith he) the dead before the living; I judged him more happy than either, who was not born, nor had seen the evils which are done under the Sun.

For there is no∣thing which offends humane nature more, than the follies and impertinencies of men, and the hatreds, in∣justices, violences, and inhumanities caused by their irregular passions. Whereupon some Philosophers see∣ing humane nature governed by passion and not by reason, wholly abhorred it. Amongst whom Timon of Athens was the principal beginner, and most earnest Professor of that Sect; for he did not only call himself the capital Enemy of Mankind, but confirmed his words by his actions; for he neither conversed nor dwelt with men, but lived in the Desert amongst wild beasts, remote from Neighbourhood or Towns; neither would he be visited by any, nor discourse with any but an Athenian Captain called Alcibiades, and that not for friendship or affection, but because he hoped and foresaw (as indeed it happened afterwards) that he would one day be the ruine of his Country, and the destruction of a multitude of men. Neither was he onely content with this aversion from men, but studied and invented all ways possible to destroy them. He cau∣sed Gallowses to be made in his Gardens, wherein such as were desperate and weary of life might convenient∣ly hang themselves; and having occasion some years after to make use of his Garden for the enlarging of his House, he would not pull down his Gallowses, un∣til he had called the people together to hear his Ora∣tion, assuring them, that he had something new and of importance to speak unto them. The people, who having been long acquainted with his humour, ex∣pecting something that was extraordinary, willingly assembled to hear him: to whom he spake in this man∣ner. O Athenians, you are not ignorant, that many have made themselves away in my Gardens. I have now occasion to dispose of them otherwise: and there∣fore

fore thought good to tell you, that if any of you have a mind to hang your selves, that you do it quickly; And so without more words, with this loving offer concluded his Speech, and returned to his own house, where he ended his life in the same opinion, ever philosophying of the misery of man. And when the pangs of death came upon him, abhorring mankinde even unto the last gasp, he commanded that his body should not be interr'd in the earth, as in the common Element, wherein usually were buried the bodies of others, afraid lest his bones should lye near or be touched by men though dead: but that they should make his Sepulcher upon the brink of the Sea, that tho fury of the waves might hinder the approach of all o∣thers: and that they should grave upon it this Epitaph, which is related by Plutarch; After my miserable life they buried me in this deep water. Reader, desire not to know my name. The Gods confound thee. This Philo∣sopher wanted faith and charity, not distinguishing betwixt the Malice of man, and his Nature: having reason to abhorre that, and to love this. Yet by these extravagant demonstrations he gave us to understand how monstrous are our passions, and how worthy of hate, when they are not ordered and governed by rea∣son. And certainly all Christians ought to desire the destruction of the pomp and pride of men, as Timon did of their persons, their superfluous gallantry, their unlawful pleasures, their ostentation of riches, their vain titles of honour, their raging envy, their disor∣dered choler, their unjust revenges, their unbridled passions. Those ought to die and be destroyed, that the men may live.

§ 6.

So many are the miseries of life that they cannot all be numbered. Death, which is called by Aristotle The greatest of evils, is by many esteemed a lesser evil than

life: the many evils in this surpassing the greatness of the evil in that; and therefore many have thought it better to suffer the greatest, which is death, than to suffer so many though lesser, which are in life. For this reason one calls Death, The last and greatest Phy∣sician, because though in it self it be the greatest evil, yet it cures all others, and therefore prescribes the hopes of it, as an efficacious remedy and comfort in the afflictions of life. But because this comfort is not relished by all, the fear of death being so natural, and the dangers and many waves unto it accounted a∣mongst the many miseries of life, therefore some prime Philosophers could find out no other remedy for evils than to despair of their remedy. Wherefore Seneca, when a great Earthquake happened in his time in Campania, wherein Pompeios a famous City, and di∣vers other Towns were sunk and many people lost, and the rest of the Inhabitants distracted with fear and and grief fled from their Country, as if they had been banisht, he advised them to return home, and assured them that there was no remedy for the evils of this life, and that the dangers of death were unavoidable. And truly, if well considered, what security can there be in life, when the Earth, which is the Mother of the living, is unfaithful to them, and sprouts out miseries and deaths even of whole Cities? what can be secure in the World, if the World it self be not, and the most solid parts of it shake? If that, which is onely immoveable and fixt for to sustain the living, tremble with Earthquakes, if what is proper to the Earth, which is to be firm, be unstable and betray us, where shall our fears find a refuge? When the roof of the house shakes we may flie into the fields, but when the world shakes, whither shall we goe? What comfort can we have, when fear cannot find a gate to flie out at? Cities resist Enemies with the strength of their walls: Tempests finde a sheltet in the Haven: The covering of Houses defend us from rains and snows:

In the time of plague we may change places; but from the whole Earth who can flie, and therefore from dangers? For this reason Seneca said, Not to have a remedy may serve us as a comfort in our evils; for Fear is foolish without Hope. Reason banishes fear in those who are wise; and in those, who are not, despair of remedy gives a kind of security, at least takes away fear. He that will fear nothing, let him think that all things are to be feared. See what slight things endanger us; even those which sustain life, lay ambushes for us. Meat and drink, without which we cannot live, take away our lives. It is not wisdom therefore to fear swallowing by an Earthquake, and not to fear the falling of a tile. In death all sorts of dy∣ings are equal. What imports it whether one single stone kills thee, or a whole Mountain oppress thee? death consists in the souls leaving of the bodies, which often happens by slight accidents,

But Christians in all the dangers and miseries of hu∣mane life, have other comforts to lay hold on, which are a good conscience, hope of glory, conformity un∣to the Divine will, and the imitation and example of Jesus Christ. From these four he shall in life have me∣rit, in death security, in both comfort, and in eternity a reward. Justus Lipsius being much oppressed with his last infirmity whereof he died, some who were present endeavoured to comfort him with some philo∣sophical reasons and sentences of the Stoicks, wherein that most learned man was much studied, as appears in his Book of the Introduction to Stoical learning; unto whom he answered in this most Christian man∣ner. Vain are all those consolations; and pointing unto an Image of Christ crucified, said, This is the true comfort and true patience. And presently with a sigh, which rose from the bottom of his heart, said; My Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ give me Christian patience. This comfort we ought to have, who were redeemed by so loving a Lord, That, considering our

sins are greater than the pains of this life, and that the Son of God hath suffered farre greater, who want∣ed all sin, he hath deserved to convert the miseries of this life, which are occasioned by sin, into instru∣ments of satisfaction for our sins, drawing health out of infirmity, and an antidote out of poison.

We may also draw from what is said, how unjust was the complaint of Theophrastus, that nature had gi∣ven a longer life unto many birds and beasts, than un∣to man. If our life were less troublesome, he had some reason; but it being so fraught with miseries, he might rather think that life the happiest which was shortest. Wherefore, as St. Jerome said to Helio∣dorus, it is better to die young and die well, than to die old and die ill. This voyage being of necessity, the felicity of it consists not in being long, but being pros∣perous, and that we at last arrive in the desired Port. St. Austin sayes,* 1.13 that to die is to be eased of those hea∣vy burthens, which we bear in this life: and that the happiness is not to leave it late in the evening of our age, but that when we die they charge us not with a greater load. Let a man live ten years, or let him live a thousand, death (as St. Jerome saith) gives him the title of happy or unfortunate. If he live a thousand years in sorrow, it is a great unhappiness: but greater, if he live them ill, though with content; and there∣fore, supposing so many miseries, we cannot complain of God for having given us a short life, but of our selves for having made it a bad one.* 1.14 Finally, as St. Am∣brose sayes, Our life being compassed with so many miseries, as that death seems rather a shelter for evils than a punishment, God was pleased that it should be short, that the vexations and misfortunes of it, which cannot be counterpoised with any joyes of the earth, might be more supportable. At least if this life with so many miseries do not displease us, yet let the eternal with all her felicities content us better; and let us not endeavour less for the immortal life of heaven, than

we doe for this mortal one of earth. And therefore, as St. Austin sayes,* 1.15

If thou run a hundred miles for this life, how many oughtest thou to run for the eternal: and if thou make such speed to obtain a few dayes and uncertain, how oughtest thou to run for life eternal?

Notes

• * 1.1

  Aurel. Anton. in sua Phi∣losoph.
• * 1.2

  Eccl. 3.
• * 1.3

  Stob. ser. 96.
• * 1.4

  Vide Pet. Bon. l. 3. Theatr. mundi.
• * 1.5

  Joseph. l. 7. de bel. Jud. c. 2.
• * 1.6

  Chrys. in Mat.
• * 1.7

  Hom. in Ascen.
• * 1.8

  Cicero de finibus.
• * 1.9

  Dubra∣vius l. 2. hist. Bo∣hem. an. 1418.
• * 1.10

  Aurel. Vict. in. Epitome vitae Ner∣vae.
• * 1.11

  Jovius l. 39. hist. sui tem∣poris.
• * 1.12

  Eccl. c. 4.
• * 1.13

  August. in Johan.
• * 1.14

  Ambr. Ser. qua∣drages.
• * 1.15

  Augus. trac. 5. in Johan. hom. 57.