FULLERS HOLY STATE AND 
 PROFANE STATE 
 
In that day shall there be upon the bells of the horses, 
 ' Holiness unto the Lord.' zechariah xiv 20. 
 
 CHARLES WHITTIXGHAM 
 CHISWICK 
 
LONDON 
 WILLIAM PICKERING 
 1840 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 WHO is not sensible, with sorrow, of the distrac- 
 tions of this age ? To write books, therefore, 
 may seem unseasonable, especially in a time wherein 
 the press, like an unruly horse, hath cast off his bridle 
 of being licensed, and some serious books, which dare 
 fly abroad, are hooted at by a flock of pamphlets. 
 
 But be pleased to know, that when I left my home 
 it was fair weather, and my journey was half past be- 
 fore I discovered the tempest, and had gone so far in 
 this work, that I could neither go backward with cre- 
 dit, nor forward with comfort. 
 
 As for the matter of this book, therein I am resi- 
 dent on my profession ; holiness in the latitude thereof 
 falling under the cognizance of a Divine. For curious 
 method, expect none, essays for the most part not 
 being placed as at a feast, but placing themselves as 
 at an ordinary. 
 
 The characters I have conformed to the then stand- 
 ing laws of the realm (a twelve-month ago were they 
 sent to the press) since which time the wisdom of the 
 king and state hath thought fitting to alter many 
 things, and I expect the discretion of the reader should 
 make his alterations accordingly. And I conjure thee 
 by all Christian ingenuity, that if lighting here on 
 some passages rather harsh-sounding than ill-intended. 
 
VI 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 to construe the same by the g'eneral drift and main 
 scope which is aimed at. 
 
 Nor let it render the modesty of this book suspected, 
 because it presumes to appear in company unmanned 
 by any patron. If rig-ht, it will defend itself ; if wrong, 
 none can defend it : truth needs not, falsehood de- 
 serves not a supporter : and indeed, the matter of this 
 work is too high for a subject's, the workmanship 
 thereof too low for a prince's patronage. 
 
 And now I will turn my pen into prayer, that God 
 would be pleased to discloud these gloomy days with 
 the beams of his mercy, which if I may be so happy 
 as to see, it will then encourage me to count it free- 
 dom to serve two apprenticeships (God spinning out 
 the thick thread of my life so long) in writing the 
 Ecclesiastical History from Christ's time to our days, 
 if I shall from remoter parts be so planted as to enjoy 
 the benefit of walkinar and standing: libraries, without 
 which advantages the best vigilance doth but vainly 
 dream to undertake such a task. 
 
 Meantime I will stop the leakage of my soul, and 
 what heretofore hath run out in writing, shall here- 
 after, God willing, be improved in constant preaching, 
 in what place soever God's providence and friends' 
 good will shall fix. 
 
 Thine in all Christian offices, 
 
 1648. 
 
 THOxMAS FULLER. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 THE HOL 
 
 Page 
 
 The Good Wife 1 
 
 The Life of Monica 3 
 
 The Good Husband 6 
 
 The Life of Abraham 7 
 
 The Good Parent 9 
 
 The Good Child 11 
 
 The Good Master 13 
 
 The Good Servant 15 
 
 The Life of Eliezer 17 
 
 The Good Widow 19 
 
 The Life of the Lady Paula 21 
 
 The Constant Virgin 27 
 
 The Life of Hildegardis . . . 31 
 
 The Elder Brother 35 
 
 The Younger Brother ... 37 
 
 The Good Advocate 40 
 
 The Good Physician 42 
 
 The Life of Paracelsus ... 44 
 
 The Controversial Divine. 47 
 
 The Life of Dr. Whitaker 51 
 
 The true Church Antiquary 53 
 
 The General Artist 56 
 
 The Life of Julius Scaliger 58 
 
 The Faithful Minister ... 62 
 
 The Life of Mr. Perkins. .. 68 
 
 The Good Parishioner ... 72 
 
 The Good Patron 74 
 
 The Good Landlord 76 
 
 The Good Master of a Col- 
 lege 78 
 
 The Life of Dr. Metcalf . . . 81 
 
 The Good Schoolmaster... 85 
 
 Y STATE. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Good Merchant 88 
 
 The Good Yeoman. 91 
 
 The Handicraftsman 94 
 
 The Good Soldier 97 
 
 The Good Sea Captain ... 104 
 The Life of Sir Francis 
 
 Drake 107 
 
 The Good Herald 114 
 
 The Life of Mr. W. Camb- 
 
 den 117 
 
 The True Gentleman 120 
 
 Of Hospitality 123 
 
 Of .Testing 124 
 
 Of Self-Praising 126 
 
 Of Travelling 127 
 
 Of Company 129 
 
 Of Apparel 132 
 
 Of Building 133 
 
 Of Anger 136 
 
 Of Expecting Preferment. 137 
 
 Of Memory 140 
 
 Of Fancy 142 
 
 Of Natural Fools 145 
 
 Of Recreations 148 
 
 Of Tombs 151 
 
 Of Deformity 154 
 
 Of Plantations 156 
 
 Of Contentment 158 
 
 Of Books 161 
 
 Of Time-serving 163 
 
 Of Moderation 166 
 
 Of Gravity 169 
 
vui 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Of Marriage 172 
 
 Of Fame 174 
 
 Of the Antiquity of 
 Churches, and necessity 
 
 of them 177 
 
 Of Ministers' Maintenance 186 
 
 The Favourite 191 
 
 The Life of Haman 197 
 
 The Life of Cardinal 
 
 Wolsey 200 
 
 Tlie Life of Charles Bran- 
 don, Duke of Suffolk... 204 
 
 The Wise Statesman 207 
 
 The Life of William Cecil 
 
 Lord Burleigh 212 
 
 The Good Judge 217 
 
 The Life of Sir John Mark- 
 ham 220 
 
 Page 
 
 The Good Bishop 222 
 
 The Life of St. Augustine. 228 
 The Life of Bishop Ridley 232 
 
 The True Nobleman 238 
 
 The Court Lady 241 
 
 The Life of Lady Jane 
 
 Grey 247 
 
 The Life of Queen Eliza- 
 beth 250 
 
 The Ambassador 256 
 
 The Good General 262 
 
 The Life of Gustavus Adol- 
 
 phus, King of Sweden.. 265 
 The Prince ; or, Heir Ap- 
 parent to the Crown .... 270 
 The Life of Edward the 
 
 Black Prince 275 
 
 The King 280 
 
 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 The Harlot 287 j The Liar 328 
 
 The Life of Joan Queen of I The Common Barrator .... 330 
 
 Naples 290 ' The Degenerous Gentle- 
 
 The Witch 293 I man 332 
 
 The W^itch of Endor 296 ! The Traitor 338 
 
 The Life of Joan of Arc... 299 ^ The Pazzians' Conspiracy 340 
 
 The Atheist 304 The Tyrant 342 
 
 The Life of Cajsar Borgia.. 309 i The Life of Andronicus ; 
 
 The Hypocrite 313- or, the Unfortunate Poli- 
 
 The Life of Jehu 314 ' tician 345 
 
 The Heretic 317 The Life of Duke D'Alva 381 
 
 The Rigid Donatists 319 
 
THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 I. — The Good Wife. 
 
 ST. PAUL to the Colossians, chap. iii. ver. 18. first ad- 
 viseth women to submit themselves to their husbands, 
 and then counselleth men to love their wives. And sure it 
 was fitting that women should first have their lesson given 
 them, because it is hardest to be learned, and therefore they 
 need have the more time to con it. For the same reason we 
 first begin with the character of a good wife. 
 
 1. Slie commandeth her husband in any equal matter by 
 constant obeying him. It was always observed, that what 
 the English gained of the French in battle by valour, the 
 French regained of the English by cunning in treaties : * so 
 if the husband should chance by his power in his passion to 
 prejudice his wife's right, she wisely knoweth, by compound- 
 ing and complying, to recover and rectify it again. 
 
 2. She never crosseth her husband in the springtide of his 
 anger, but stays till it be ebbing water. And then mildly 
 she argues the matter, not so much to condemn him, as to 
 acquit herself. Surely men, contrary to iron, are worst to be 
 wrought upon when they are hot ; and are far more tractable 
 in cold blood. It is an observation of seamen, that if a 
 single meteor or fireball falls on their mast,f it portends ill 
 luck ; but if two come together (which they account Castor 
 and Pollux) they presage good success : but sure in a family 
 it bodeth most bad when two fireballs (husband's and wife's 
 anger) come both together. 
 
 ♦ Comineus, lib. 4. cap. 8. et Bodin. De Repub. lib. 5. 
 p. 782. 
 
 t Erasmus, Dial, in Naufragio. 
 
 B 
 
2 THE HOL Y STATE. 
 
 3. She keeps home if she hath not her husband's company, 
 or leave for her patent to go abroad: for the house is the 
 woman's centre. It is written, Psalm civ. 22. The sun ariseth 
 — man goeth forth unto his icork and to his labour until the 
 evening : but it is said of the good woman, Prov. xxxi. 15. 
 She riseth whiles it is yet night : for man in the race of his 
 work starts from the rising of the sun, because his business is 
 without doors, and not to be done without the light of heaven ; 
 but the woman hath her work \\"ithin the house, and there- 
 fore can make the sun rise by lighting of a candle. 
 
 4. Her clothes are rather comely than costly, and she makes 
 plain cloth to be velvet by her handsome wearing it. Slie is 
 none of our dainty dames, who love to appear in variety of 
 suits every day new, as if a good gown, like a stratagem in 
 war, were to be used but once : but our good wife sets up a 
 sail according to the keel of her husband's estate ; and if of 
 high parentage, she doth not so remember what she was by 
 birth, that she forgets what she is by match. 
 
 5. Arcana imperii (her husband's secrets) she will not di- 
 vulge. Especially she is careful to conceal his infinnities. 
 If he be none of the wisest, she so orders it that he appears 
 on the public stage but seldom ; and then he hath conned his 
 part so well, that he comes off with great applause. If his 
 forma infoj-nuiJis be but bad, she provides him heiiev formas 
 assistenfes, gets him wise servants and secretaries. 
 
 6. In her husband's absence she is wife and deputy husband, 
 which makes her double the files of her diligence. At his 
 return he tinds all things so well, that he wonders to see 
 himself at home when he was abroad. 
 
 7. Her carriage is so modest, that she disheartens wantons 
 not only to take but even (o besiege her chastity. I confess 
 some desperate men will hope any thing ; yea, their shame- 
 less boldness will fasten on impossibilities, measuring other 
 folks' badness by their own : yet seldom such salamanders, 
 who live in the fire of lust, dare approach, without seeing 
 the smoke of wantonness in looks, words, apparel, or beha- 
 viour. And though charity commands me to believe that 
 some women who hang out signs, notwithstanding will not 
 lodge strangers ; yet these mock guests are guilty in tempting 
 others to tempt them. 
 
 8. In her husband's sickriess she feels jnore grief than she 
 
THE GOOD WIFE. 3 
 sheivs. Partly that she may not dishearten him ; and partly 
 because she is not at leisure to seem so sorrowful, that she 
 may be the more serviceable. 
 
 9. Her children, though many in number, are none in 
 noise, steering them with a look whither site listeih. When 
 they grow up, she teacheth them not pride but painfulness, 
 making their hands to clothe their backs, and them to wear 
 the livery of their own industry. She makes not her daugh- 
 ters gentlewomen before they be women, rather teaching 
 them what they should pay to others, than receive from 
 them. 
 
 10. The heaviest work of her servants she maketk light 
 by orderly and seasonable enjoining it : wherefore her service 
 is counted a preferment, and her teaching better than her 
 wages. Her maids follow the precedent of their mistress, 
 live modestly at home. One asked a grave gentlewoman, 
 how her maids came by so good husbands, and yet seldom 
 went abroad ? Oh, said she, good husbands come home to them. 
 So much for this subject: and what is defective in this des- 
 cription shall be supplied by the pattern ensuing. 
 
 II. — The Life of Monica. 
 
 MONICA is better known by the branch of her issue, 
 than root of her parentage, and was born in or nigh 
 Tagasta in Africa.* Her parents, whose names we find 
 not, were Christians, and careful of her education, commit- 
 ting her to the breeding of an old maid in the house, who, 
 though herself crooked with age, was excellent to straighten 
 the manners of youth. She instructed her with holy se- 
 verity, never allowing her to drmk wine, or between meals. 
 Having outgrown her tuition, she began by degrees to 
 sip and drink wine, lesser draughts like wedges widening 
 her throat for greater, till at last (ill customs being not 
 knocked, but insensibly screwed into our souls) she could 
 fetch off her whole ones. Now it happened that a young 
 maid (formerly her partner in potting) fell at variance with 
 her, and (as malice when she shoots draws her arrow to the 
 
 * August. Confess, lib. 9. c. 8. 
 
4 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 head) called her toss-pot, and drunkard; whereupon Monica 
 reformed herself, and turned temperate. Thus bitter taunts 
 sometimes make wholesome physic, when God sanctifies 
 unto us the malice of our enemies to perform the office of 
 good will. 
 
 After this was she married to Patricias, one of more 
 honour than wealth, and as yet a pagan; wherein she brake 
 St. Paul's precept, fo marn/ only in the Lord. Perchance 
 then there was a dearth of husbands, or she did it by her 
 parents' importunity, or out of promise of his conversion : 
 and the history herein being but lamely delivered us, it is 
 charity to support it with the most favourable construction. 
 He was of a stem nature, noue more lamb when pleased, or 
 lion when angry ; and which is worse, * his wild affections 
 .did prey abroad, till she lured them home by her loving 
 behaviour. Not like those wives who by their hideous out- 
 cries drive their wandering husbands farther out of the way. 
 
 Her own house was to her a house of correction, wherein 
 her husband's mother was bitter unto her, having a quarrel 
 not so much to her person as relation, because a daughter- 
 in-law. Her servants, to climb into the favour of their old 
 mistress, trampled on their young, they bringing tales, and 
 the old woman belief ; though the teeth of their malice did 
 but file her innocency the brighter. Yea at last her mother- 
 in-law, turning her compurgator, caused her son to punish 
 those maids who causelessly had wToneed their mistress. 
 
 When her neighbours, who had husbands of far milder 
 dispositions, would shew her their husbands' cruelty legible 
 in their faces, all her pitying was reproving them : and 
 whereas they expected to be praised for their patience, she 
 condemned them for deserving such punishment. She never 
 had blow from, or jar with her husband, she so suppled his 
 hard nature with her obedience, and to her gxeat comfort 
 saw him converted to Christianity before his death. Also 
 she saw Augustine her son, formerly vicious in life, and 
 erroneous in doctrine (whose soul she bathed in her tears) 
 become a worthy Christian, who coming to have his ears 
 tickled, had his heart touched, and got religion in to boot 
 with the eloquence of St. Ambrose. She survived not long 
 
 • August. Confess, lib. 9. c. 9. 
 
LIFE OF MONICA. 5 
 after her son's conversion (God sends his servants to bed 
 when they have done their work), and her candle was put 
 out as soon as the day did dawn in St. Augustine. 
 
 Take an instance or two of her signal piety. There was 
 a custom in Africa * to bring pulse bread and wine to the 
 monuments of dead saints, wherein Monica was as forward 
 as any. But being better instructed that this custom was of 
 heathenish parentage, and that religion was not so poor as 
 to borrow rites from pagans, she instantly left oft' that cere- 
 mony : and as for piety's sake she had done it thus long, so 
 for piety's sake she would do it no longer. How many old 
 folks now-a-days, whose' best argument is use, would have 
 flown in their faces who should stop them in the full career 
 of an ancient custom ! 
 
 There was one Licentius, a novice-convert, who had got 
 these words by the end, lurn us again, O Lord God of 
 hosts : shew us the light of thy countenance, and ive shall be 
 whole. And (as it is the fashion of many men's tongues Xff 
 echo forth the last sentence they learn) he said it in all places 
 he went to. But Monica, overhearing him to sing it in the 
 house of office, f was highly offended at him : because holy 
 tilings are to be suited to holy places ; and the harmony 
 could not be sweet where the song did jar with the place. 
 And although some may say, that a gracious heart conse- 
 crateth every place into a chapel, yet sure though pious 
 things are no where unfitting to be thought on, they may 
 somewhere be improper to be uttered. 
 
 Drawing near her death, she sent most pious thoughts as 
 harbingers to heaven, and her soul saw a glimpse of happi- 
 ness through the chinks of her sickness-broken body. She 
 was so inflamed with zeal, that she turned all objects into 
 fuel to feed it. One day standing with St. Augustine at an 
 east window,;}: she raised herself to consider the light of God's 
 presence, in respect whereof all corporal light is so far from 
 being matched, it deserves not to be mentioned. Thus 
 mounted on heavenly meditations, and from that high pitch 
 surveying earthly things, the great distance made them appear 
 
 * August. Confess, lib. 6. c. 2. 
 + August, lib. 1. De Ordine, c. 8. 
 X August. Confess, lib. 9. c. 10. 
 
6 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 unto her like a little point, scarce to be seen, and less to be 
 
 respected. 
 
 She died at Ostia in Italy in the fifty-sixth year of her £^e, 
 Augustine closing her eyes, when through grief he had scarce 
 any himself. 
 
 III. — The Good Husband. 
 
 HAVING formerly described a good wife ; she will make 
 a good husband, whose character we are now to present. 
 
 1. His love to his icife weakeneth not his ruling her, and 
 his ruling lesseneth not his loving her. Wherefore he avoideth 
 all fondness (a sick love, to be praised in none, and pardoned 
 only in the newly married), whereby more have wilfully be- 
 trayed their command than ever lost it by their wives' rebel- 
 lion. Methinks the he-viper is right enough served, which 
 (as Pliny reports *) puts his head into the she-viper's mouth, 
 and she bites it off. And what wonder is it if women take 
 the rule to themselves, which their uxorious husbands first 
 surrender unto them ? 
 
 2. He is constant to his wife, and confident of her. And 
 sure where jealousy is the jailor, many break the prison, it 
 opening more ways to wickedness than it stoppeth ; so that 
 where it findeth one it maketh ten disht)nest. 
 
 3. He alloweth her meet maintenance, hut measures it hi/ 
 his own estate : nor will he give less, nor can she ask more. 
 Which allowance, if shorter than her deserts and his desire, 
 he lengtheneth it out with his courteous carriage unto her ; 
 chiefly in her sickness, then not so much word pitying her, 
 as providing necessaries for her. 
 
 4. That she may not entrench on his prerogative, he main- 
 tains her propriety in feminine affairs : yea, therein he follows 
 her advice : for the soul of a man is planted so high, that he 
 overshoots such low matter as lie level to a woman's eye, and 
 therefore her counsel therein may better hit the mark. Causes 
 tliat are properly of feminine cognizance he suffers her finally 
 to decide, not so much as permitting an appeal to himself, 
 that their jurisdictions may not interfere. He will not coun- 
 tenance a stubborn servant against her, but in her maintains 
 
 * Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 10. cap. 62. 
 
THE GOOD HUSBAND. 7 
 his own authority. Such husbands as bait the mistress with 
 her maids, and clap their hands at the sport, will have cause 
 to wring them afterwards. 
 
 5. Knowing she is the weaker vessel, he bears with her in- 
 jirmities. All hard using of her he detests, desiring therein 
 to do not what may be lawful, but fitting. And grant her 
 to be of a servile nature, such as may be bettered by beating ; 
 yet he remembers he hath enfranchised her by marrying her. 
 On her wedding-day she was, like St. Paul, free born, and 
 privileged from any servile punishment. 
 
 6. He is careful that the wounds betwixt them take not 
 air, and be publicly known. Jars concealed are half recon- 
 ciled ; which if generally known, it is a double task to stop 
 the breach at home, and men's mouths abroad. To this end 
 he never publicly reproves her. An open reproof puts her 
 to do penance before all that are present, after which many 
 rather study revenge than reformation. 
 
 7. He keeps her in the wholesome ignorance of unnecessary 
 secrets. They will not be starved with the ignorance, who 
 perchance may surfeit with the knowledge of weighty coun- 
 sels, too heavy for the weaker sex to bear. He knows little, 
 who will tell his wife all he knows. 
 
 8. He beats not his wife after his death. One having a 
 shrewd wife, yet loth to use her hardly in his lifetime, awed 
 her with telling her that he would beat her when he was dead, 
 meaning that he would leave her no maintenance. This 
 humour is unworthy a worthy man, who will endeavour to 
 provide her a competent estate: yet he that impoverisheth his 
 children to enrich his widow, destroys a quick hedge to make 
 a dead one. 
 
 IV. — The Life of Abraham. 
 
 I INTEND not to range over all his life as he stands three- 
 square in relation, husband, father, master. We will 
 only survey and measure his conjugal side, which respecteth 
 his wife. 
 
 We read not that ever he upbraided her for her barrenness, 
 as knowing that natural defects are not the creature's fault, 
 but the Creator's pleasure : all which time his love was loyal 
 to her alone. As for his going in to Hagar, it was done not 
 
8 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 only with the consent but by the advice of Sarah, who was 
 so ambitious of children, she would be made a mother by a 
 proxy. He was not jealous of her (though a grand beauty) 
 in what company soever he came. Indeed he feared the 
 Egyptians, because the Egyptians feared not God ; suspect- 
 ing rather them of force, than her of falseness, and believing 
 that sooner they might kill him, than corrupt her. 
 
 Yet, as well as he loved her, he expected she should do 
 work fit for her calling. Make ready quickly three measures 
 of meal, and knead it. Well may Sarah be cook, where Abra- 
 ham was caterer, yea, where God was guest. The print of 
 her fingers still remains in the meal, and of crumbling dough 
 she hath made a lasting monument of her good housewifery. 
 
 Being ftilsely indicted by his wife, he never traversed the 
 bill, but compounded with her on her own terms. The case 
 this. Hagar being with child by Abraham, her pride swelled 
 with her belly, and despiseth her mistress : Sarah, laying her 
 action wrong, sues Abraham for her maid's fault, and appeals 
 to God. I see the plaintiff hath not always the best cause ; 
 nor are they most guilty who are most blamed. However, 
 Abraham passes by her peevishness, and remits his maid to 
 stand or fall to her own mistress. Though he had a great 
 part in Hagar, he would have none in Hagar's rebellion. 
 Masters who protect their faulty servants hinder the pro- 
 ceeding of justice in a family. 
 
 He did deny himself to grant his wife's will in a matter 
 of great consequence. Sarah desired. Cast out this bond- 
 woman and her son. Oh hard word ! She might as well have 
 said, " Cast out of thyself nature and natural affection." See 
 how Abraham struggles with Abraham, the father in him 
 striving with the husband in him, till God moderated with his 
 casting-voice, and Abraham was contented to hearken to the 
 counsel of his wife. 
 
 Being to sacrifice Isaac, we find not that he made Sarah 
 privy to his project. To tell her, had been to torture her, 
 fearing her affections might be too strong for her faith. Some 
 secrets are to be kept from the weaker sex ; not always out 
 of a distrust, lest they hurt the counsel by telling it, but lest 
 the counsel hurt them by keeping it. 
 
 The dearest husband cannot bail his wife when death 
 arrests her. Sarah dies, and Abraham weeps. Tears are a 
 
LIFE OF ABRAHAM, 9 
 tribute due to the dead. It is fitting: that the body when it 
 is sown in corruption should be watered by those that plant 
 it in the earth. The Hittites make him a fair offer: In the 
 chiefest of our sepulchres hury thy dead; but he thinks the 
 best of them too bad for his Sarah. Her chaste ashes did love 
 to lie alone : he provides her a virgin tomb in the cave of 
 Machpelah, where her corpse sweetly slept till he himself 
 came to bed to her, and was buried in the same grave. 
 
 V. — The Good Parent. 
 
 HE beginneth his care for his children not at their birth, 
 but conception, giving them to God to be, if not (as 
 Hannah did *) his chaplains, at least his servants. This care 
 he continueth till the day of his death, in their infancy, youth, 
 and man's estate. In all v^^hich, 
 
 1. He sheweth them in his own practice ivhat to follow and 
 imitate ; and in others, what to shun and avoid. For though 
 the words of the wise be as nails fastened by the masters of 
 the assemblies, f yet sure their examples are the hammer to 
 drive them in to take the deeper hold. A father that whipped 
 his son for swearing, and swore himself whilst he whipped 
 him, did more harm by his example than good by his cor- 
 rection. 
 
 2. He doth not welcome and embrace the first essays of sin 
 in his children. Weeds are counted herbs in the beginning 
 of the spring : nettles are put in pottage, and salads are made 
 of eldern-buds. Thus fond fathers like the oaths and wanton 
 talk of their little children, and please themselves to hear them 
 displease God. But our wise parent both instructs his chil- 
 dren in piety, and with correction blasts the first buds of pro- 
 faneness in them. He that will not use the rod on his child, 
 his child shall be used as a rod on him. 
 
 3. He observeth gavel-kind in dividing his affections, I 
 though not his estate. He loves them (though leaves them 
 not) all alike. Indeed his main land he settles on the eldest : 
 for where man takes away the birthright, God commonly 
 takes away the blessing from a family. But as for his love. 
 
 * 1 Sam. i. 11. t Eccles. xii. 11. 
 
 ^ Gives each child a part. Verstegan, of Decayed Intel!, c. 3. 
 
10 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 therein, like a well drawTi picture, he eyes all his children 
 alike (if there be a parity of deserts), not parching one to 
 drown another. Did not that mother shew little wit in her 
 great partiality, to whom when her neglected son complained 
 that his brother (her darling) had hit and hurt him with a 
 stone, whipped him only for standing in the way where the 
 stone went which his brother cast ? This partiality is tyranny, 
 when parents despise those that are deformed, enough to 
 break them whom God had bowed before. 
 
 4. He allows his children maintenance according to their 
 quality ; otherwise it will make them base, acquaint them 
 with bad company and sharking tricks ; and it makes them 
 surfeit the sooner when they come to their estates. It is ob- 
 served of camels, that having travelled long without water 
 through sandy deserts,* Implentur cum hibendi est occasio et 
 in prater itum et in futurum : and so these thirsty heirs soak 
 it when they come to their means, who whilst their fathers 
 were living might not touch the top of his money, and think 
 they shall never feel the bottom of it when they are dead. 
 
 5. In choosing a profession he is directed by his child's dis- 
 position : whose inclination is the strongest indenture to bind 
 him to a trade. But when they set Abel to till the ground, 
 and send Cain to keep sheep ; Jacob to hunt, and Esau to 
 live in tents; drive some to school, and others from it; they 
 commit a rape on nature, and it will thrive accordingly. Yet 
 he humours not his child when he makes an unworthy choice 
 beneath liimself, or rather for ease than use, pleasure than 
 profit. 
 
 6. If his son prove wild, he doth not cast him off so far, 
 hut he marks the place whei'e he lights. With the mother of 
 Moses, he doth not suffer his son so to sink or swim, but he 
 leaves one to stand afar off to watch what will become of 
 him.f He is careful, whilst he quencheth his luxury, not 
 withal to put out his life. The rather, because their souls, 
 who have broken and run out in their youth, have proved the 
 more healthful for it afterwards. 
 
 7. He moves him to marriage rather by argument drawn 
 from his good, than his own authority. It is a style too 
 princely for a parent herein to will and command ; but sure 
 
 * Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 8. c. 18. 
 
 t Exod. ii. 4. 
 
THE GOOD PARENT. 11 
 he may will and desire. Affections, like the conscience, 
 are rather to be led than drawn ; and it is to be feared, they 
 that marry where they do not love, will love where they do 
 not marry. 
 
 8. He doth not give awajj his loaf to his childrerij and then 
 come to them for a piece of bread. He holds the reins (though 
 loosely) in his own hands, and keeps to reward duty and 
 punish undutifulness ; yet on good occasion for his children's 
 advancement he will depart from part of his means. Base is 
 their nature who will not have their branches lopped till their 
 body be felled ; and will let go none of their goods, as if it 
 presaged their speedy death : whereas it doth not follow that 
 he that puts off his cloak must presently go to bed. 
 
 9. On his death-bed he bequeaths his blessing to all his 
 children: Nor rejoiceth he so much to leave them great 
 portions, as honestly obtained. Only money well and law- 
 fully gotten is good and lawful money. And if he leaves his 
 children young, he principally nominates God to be their 
 guardian, and next him is careful to appoint provident over- 
 seers. 
 
 VI.— The Good Child. 
 
 1. TTE reverenceth the person of his parent, though old, 
 -*-X poor, andfroward. As his parent bare with him 
 when a child, he bears with his parent if twice a child : nor 
 doth his dignity above him cancel his duty unto him. When 
 Sir Thomas More was Lord Chancellor of England, * and 
 Sir John his father one of the judges of the King's Bench, 
 he would in Westminster Hall beg his blessing of him on 
 his knees. 
 
 2. He observes his lawful commands, and practiseth his 
 precepts loith all obedience. I cannot therefore excuse St. 
 Barbara from undutifulness, and occasioning her own death. 
 The matter this. Her father being a pagan, commanded his 
 workmen building his house to make two windows in a room : 
 Barbara, knowing her father's pleasure, in his absence en- 
 joined them to make three, t that seeing them she might the 
 
 * Stapleton, in Vita Tho. Mori, cap. 1. 
 I Alphons. Villeg. in the Life of Barbara, on the 4th of De- 
 cember. 
 
12 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 better contemplate the mystery of the holy Trinity. (Me- 
 thinks two ^^^nclo^vs might as well have raised her meditations, 
 and the light arising from both would as properly have minded 
 her of the Holy Spirit proceeding from the Father and the 
 Son.) Her father, enraged at his return, thus came to the 
 knowledge of her relieion, and accused her to the magistrate, 
 which cost her her life. 
 
 3. Having practised them himself^ he entails his parents' 
 precepts on his poster it i/. Therefore such instructions are by 
 Solomon (Proverbs i. 9.) compared to frontlets and chains 
 (not to a suit of clothes, which serves but one, and quickly 
 wears out, or out of fashion) which have in them a real lasting 
 worth, and are bequeathed as legacies to another age. The 
 same counsels observed are chains to grace, which neglected, 
 prove halters to strangle undutiful children. 
 
 4. He is patient under correction, and thankful after it. 
 When ISlv. West, formerly tutor (such I count in loco parentis) 
 to Dr. Whitaker, wasby him, then Regius Professor, created 
 doctor, Whitaker solemnly gave him thanks before the uni- 
 versity for giving him correction when his young scholar. 
 
 5. In marriage he first and last consults with his father : 
 when propounded, when concluded. He best bowls at the 
 mark of his own contentment who, besides the aim of his own 
 eye, is directed by his father, who is to give him the ground. 
 
 6. He is a stork to his parent^ and feeds him in his old age. 
 Not only if his father hath been a pelican, but though he hath 
 been an ostrich unto him, and neglected him in his youth. 
 He confines him not a long way off to a short pension, for- 
 feited if he comes in his presence ; but shews piety at home, 
 and learns (as St. Paul saith, I Timothy v. 4.) to requite his 
 parent. And yet the debt (I mean only the principal, not 
 counting the interest) cannot fully be paid, and therefore he 
 compounds with his father to accept in good worth the ut- 
 most of his endeavour. 
 
 7. Such a child God commonly rewards with long life in 
 this world. If he chance to die young, yet he lives long 
 that lives well : and time mispent is not lived but lost. 
 Besides, God is better than his promise, if he takes from 
 him a long lease, and gives him a freehold of better value. 
 As for disobedient children, 
 
 8. If preserved from the galloics, they arc rcservedfor the 
 
THE GOOD CHILD. 13 
 
 rack, to be tortured by their own posterity. One complained 
 that never father had so undutiful a child as he had. Yes, 
 said his son, with less grace than truth, my grandfather had. 
 
 I conclude this subject with the example of a pagan's son, 
 which will shame most Christians. Pomponius Atticus,* 
 making the funeral oration at the death of his mother, did 
 protest that, living with her threescore and seven years, he 
 was never reconciled unto her, Se nunquam cum matre in 
 gratiam rediisse ; because (take the comment with the text) 
 there never happened betwixt them the least jar which needed 
 reconciliation. 
 
 VII.— The Good Master. 
 
 HE is the heart in the midst of his household, primum 
 vivens et ultimum moriens, first up and last a-bed, if 
 not in his person yet in his providence. In his carriage he 
 aimeth at his own and his servants' good, and to advance 
 bodi. 
 
 1. He oversees the works of his servants. One said that the 
 dust that fell from the master^ s shoes was the best compost to 
 manure ground. The lion f out of state will not run whilst 
 any one looks upon him, but some servants out of slothful- 
 ness will not run except some do look upon them, spurred 
 on with their master's eye. Chiefly he is careful exactly to 
 take his servants' reckonings. If their master takes no ac- 
 count of them, they will make small account of him, and 
 care not what they spend who are never brought to an audit. 
 
 2. He provides them victuals, ivholesome, sufficient and sea- 
 sonable. He doth not so allay his servants' bread to debase it 
 so much as to make that servants' meat which is not man's 
 meat. He alloweth them also convenient rest and recreation, 
 whereas some masters, like a bad conscience, will not suffer 
 them to sleep that have them. He remembers the old law 
 of the Saxon king Ina, J Jf a villain work on Sunday by 
 his lord's command, he shall be free. 
 
 3. The wages he contracts for he duly and truly pays to his 
 
 * In Vita Attici in fine Epist. ad Attic. 
 
 t Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 8. cap. 16. 
 
 t Spelman in Conciliis, A. D. 692, p. 188. 
 
14 THE HOLT STATE, 
 
 servants. The same word in the Greek (Joe) sismifies rust and 
 poison ; and some strong poison is made of the rust of me- 
 tals, but none more venomous than the rust of money in the 
 rich man's purse unjustly detained from the labourer, ^vhich 
 will poison and infect his whole estate. 
 
 4. He never threatens his servant, but rather present I tf cor- 
 rects hhn.* Indeed conditional threatenings, with promise 
 of pardon on amendment, are good and useful. Absolute 
 threatenings torment more, reform less, making servants keep 
 their faults, and forsake their masters : wherefore herein he 
 never passeth his word, but makes present payment, lest the 
 creditor run away from the debtor. 
 
 5. In correcting his servant, he becomes not a slave to his own 
 passion. Not cruelly making new indentures of the flesh of 
 his apprentice. To this end he never beats him in the height 
 of his passion. Moses being to fetch water out of the rock, 
 and commanded by God only to speak to it with his rod in 
 his hand, beingj transported with anger smote it thrice. Thus 
 some masters, who might fetch penitent tears from their 
 servants witli a chiding word (only shaking the rod withal 
 for terror) in their fury strike many blows which might bet- 
 ter be spared. If he perceives his servant incorrigible, so 
 that he cannot wash the blackamoor, he washeth his hands 
 of him, and fairly puts him away. 
 
 6. He is tender of his servant in his sickness and age. If 
 crippled in his service, his house is his hospital : yet how 
 many throw away those dry bones out of the which them- 
 selves have sucked the marrow ? It is as usual to see a young 
 serving-man an old beggar, as to see a light horse first from 
 the great saddle of a nobleman to come to the hackney-coach, 
 and at last die in drawing a car. But tlie good master is 
 not like the cruel hunter in the fable, who beat his old do2 
 because his toothless mouth let go the game; he rather 
 imitates the noble nature of our Prince Henr>-, who took 
 order for the keeping of an old English mastiff which had 
 made a lion run away, t Good reason good service in age 
 should be rewarded. WTio can without pity and pleasure 
 
 ♦ Ephes. vi. 9. 
 
 t Howe's CoDtinuat. of Siow's Chron. p. 636. 
 
THE GOOD MASTER. 15 
 behold that trusty vessel which carried Sir Francis Drake 
 about the world ? 
 
 Hitherto our discourse hath proceeded of the carriage of 
 masters towards free covenant servants, not intermeddling with 
 their behaviour towards slaves and vassals, whereof we only 
 report this passage : When Charles the fifth emperor return- 
 ing with his fleet from Algiers was extremely beaten with a 
 tempest, and their ships overloaded, he caused them to cast 
 their best horses into the sea to save the life of many slaves, || 
 who according to the market price were not so much worth. 
 Are there not many that in such a case had rather save Jack 
 the horse than Jockey the keeper? And yet those who first 
 called England the purgatory of servants^ sure did us much 
 wrong : purgatory itself being as false in the application to 
 us as in the doctrine thereof ; servants with us living gene- 
 rally on as good conditions as in any other country. And 
 well may masters consider how easy a transposition it had 
 been for God to have made him to mount into the saddle 
 that holds the stirrup ; and him to sit down at the table who 
 stands by with a trencher. 
 
 VIII. — The Good Servant. 
 
 HE is one that out of conscience serves God in his mas- 
 ter, and so hath the principle of obedience in himself. 
 As for those servants who found their obedience on some 
 external thing, with engines, they will go no longer than they 
 are wound or weighed up. 
 
 1 . He doth not dispute his master's laxcful will, hut doeth it. 
 Hence it is that simple servants (understand such whose 
 capacity is bare measure, without surplusage equal to the 
 business he is used in) are more useful, because more ma- 
 nageable, than abler men, especially in matters wherein not 
 their brains but hands are required. Yet if his master out 
 of want of experience enjoins him to do what is hurtful and 
 prejudicial to his own estate, duty herein makes him undu- 
 tiful, if not to deny, to demur in his performance, and choos- 
 ing rather to displease than hurt his master, he humbly re- 
 presents his reasons to the contrary. 
 
 11 Pantaleon, pars 3. De Illust. Germ, et alii Autorts. 
 
16 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 2. He loves to go about his business ivith cheerfulness. One 
 said, He loved to hear his carter, though not his cart, to sing. 
 God loveth a cheer ful giver ; and Christ reproved the Pha- 
 risees for disfiguring their faces with a sad countenance. 
 Fools! who to persuade men that angels lodged in their 
 hearts, hung out a devil for a sign in their faces. Sure 
 cheerfulness in doing renders a deed more acceptable ; not 
 like those sen-ants, who doing their work unwillingly, their 
 looks do enter a protestation against what their hands are 
 doing. 
 
 3. He dispatcheth his business with quickness and expedition. 
 Hence the same English word speed signifies celerity and 
 success; the former in business of execution causing the 
 latter. Indeed haste and rashness are storms and tempests, 
 breaking and wrecking business ; but nimbleness is a fair 
 full wind, blowing it with speed to the haven. As he is 
 good at hand, so he is good at length, continually and con- 
 stantly careful in his service. Many servants, as if they had 
 learned the nature of the besoms they use, are good for a 
 few days, and aft;erwards grow unserviceable. 
 
 4. He disposeth not of his waster s goods without his privity 
 or consent : no not in the smallest matters. Open this wicket, 
 and it will be in vain for masters to shut the door. If ser- 
 vants presume to dispose small things without their master's 
 allowance (besides that many little leaks may sink a ship) 
 this will widen their consciences to give away greater. But 
 though he hath not always a particular leave, he hath a 
 general grant, and a warrant dormant from his master to 
 give an alms to the poor in his absence, if in absolute ne- 
 cessity. 
 
 5. His answers to his master are true, direct, and dutiful. 
 If a dumb devil possesseth a servant, a winding cane is the 
 fittest circle, and the master the exorcist to drive it out. 
 Some servants are so talkative, one may as well command 
 the echo as them not to speak last; and then they count 
 themselves conquerors, because last they leave the field. 
 Others, though they seem to yield and go away, yet, with the 
 flying Parthians, shoot backward over their shoulders, and 
 dart bitter taunts at their masters; yea, though with the 
 clock they have given the last stroke, yet they keep a jarring, 
 muttering to themselves a good while after. 
 
THE GOOD SERVANT. 17 
 
 6. Just correction he bears patiently, and unjust he takes 
 cheerfully ; knowing that stripes unjustly given more hurt 
 the master than the man : and the logic maxim is verified, 
 Agens agendo repatitur, the smart most lights on the striker. 
 Chiefly he disdains the baseness of running away. 
 
 7. Because charity is so cold, his industry is the hotter to 
 provide something for himself, whereby he may be maintained 
 in his old age. If under his master he trades for himself (as 
 an apprentice may do if he hath covenanted so beforehand *) 
 he provides good bounds and sufficient fences betwixt his 
 own and his master's estate {Jacob, Gen. xxx. 36. set hisfock 
 three days' journey froin Labans) that no quarrel may arise 
 about their property, nor suspicion that his remnant hath 
 eaten up his master's whole cloth. 
 
 IX. — The Life of Eliezer. 
 
 ELIEZER was steward of Abraham's household, lieute- 
 nant-general over the army of his servants, ruler over 
 all his master had : the confidence in his loyalty causing the 
 largeness of his commission. 
 
 But as for those who make him the founder of Damascus, 
 on no other evidence but because he is called Eliezer of 
 Damascus, they build a great city on too narrow a foundation. 
 It argues his goodness that Abraham, if dying without a son, 
 . intended him his heir (a kinsman in grace is nearest by the 
 surest side), till Isaac stepping in stopped out Eliezer, and re- 
 versed those resolutions. 
 
 The Scripture presents us with a remarkable precedent of 
 his piety, t in a matter of great moment : Abraham being to 
 send him into Mesopotamia, caused him to swear that he 
 would faithfully fetch Isaac a wife from his own kindred. 
 Eliezer demurred awhile before he would swear, carefully 
 sur^^eying the latitude of the oath, lest some unseen ambushes 
 therein should surprise his conscience. The most scrupulous 
 to take an oath will be the most careful to perform it, whereas 
 
 * Bracton, lib. 5. tract. 2. cap. 3. num. 7. 
 
 t That the nameless servant, Gen. xxi v. was this Eliezer, Abra- 
 ham's steward, is the opinion of Luther in his comment on that 
 chapter j Rivet on the same, Exercit. Ill; with many others, 
 c 
 
18 THE HOLT STATE. 
 
 those that swear it bhndly will do it lamely. He objects, 
 Feradventure the woman will not be willing to follow me. 
 At last being satisfied in this querj', he takes the oath : as 
 no honest man who means to pay will refuse to give his 
 bond, if la'tN-fully required. 
 
 He takes ten camels (then the coaches of the east country) 
 with servants and all things in good equipage, to shew a 
 sample of his master's greatness ; and being a stranger in the 
 countr}% asked direction of him who best knew the w^ay, God 
 himself. If any object that his craving of a sign was a sign 
 of infidelity, and unmannerly boldness to confine God to 
 particulars ; yet perchance God's Spirit prompted him to make 
 the request, who sometimes moves men to ask what he is 
 minded to give, and his petition seemeth just because granted. 
 
 Rebecca meets him at the well. The lines drawn from 
 ever\' part of the sign required centre themselves in her. 
 Driyik, wi/ lord, said she, a7id I icill draw water for thy 
 camels. Her words prophecy that she will be a good house- 
 wife, and a good housekeeper. Eliezer's eyes are dazzled with 
 the beams of God's providence : her dra%ving of water drew 
 more wonder from him; and the more he drinks of her 
 pitcher, the more he is athirst to know the issue of the mat- 
 ter. He questions her of her parentage, and finds all his 
 mvstical expectation historically expounded in her. Then he 
 bowed down his head, and did homage to God's providence, 
 blessing him for his protection. ]Many favours which God 
 giveth us ravel out for want of hemming, through our own 
 unthankfulness : for though prayer purchaseth blessings, 
 giving pi-aise doth keep the quiet possession of them. 
 
 Being come into the house, his first care is for his cattle, 
 whose dumbness is orator}^ to a conscientious man ; and he 
 that will not be merciful to his beast, is a beast himself. 
 Then preferring his message before his meat, he empties his 
 mind before he fills his body. No dainties could be digested, 
 whilst his errand like a crudity lay on his stomach. 
 
 In deliverine his message, first he reads his commission, 
 " I am Abraham's servant then he reports the fulness of 
 his master's wealth without any hyperboles. How many em- 
 ployed in such a matter, would have made mountains of gold 
 of molehills of silver ? Not so Eliezer, reporting the bare truth ; 
 and a good estate if told, commends itself. As plain also is 
 
LIFE OF ELIEZER. 19 
 his narration of the passages of God's providence, the artifi- 
 cialness whereof best appeared in his natural relation. Then 
 concludes he with desiring a direct answer to his motion. 
 
 The matter was soon transacted betwixt them ; for seeing 
 that heaven did ask the banns, why should earth forbid them ? 
 only her friends desire Rebecca should stay ten days with 
 them, which Eliezer would not yield to. He would speedily 
 finish that bargain whereof God had given the happy earnest ; 
 and because blessed hitherto, make more haste hereafter. If 
 in a dark business we perceive God to guide us by the lantern 
 of his providence, it is good to follow the light close, lest we 
 lose it by our lagging behind. He will not truant it now 
 in the afternoon, but with convenient speed returns to Abra- 
 ham, who . only was worthy of such a servant, who only was 
 worthy of such a master. 
 
 X. — The Good Widow. 
 
 SHE is a woman whose head hath been quite cutoff, and 
 yet she liveth, and hath the second part of virginity. 
 Conceive her to have buried her husband decently according 
 to his quality and condition, and let us see how she behaves 
 herself afterwards. 
 
 1. Her grief for her husband, thovgh real, is moderate. 
 Excessive was the sorrow of King Richard the Second, be- 
 seeming him neither as king, man, or Christian, who so fer- 
 vently loved Anna of Bohemia, his queen, that when she died 
 at Shean, in Surrey, he both cursed the place, and also out of 
 madness overthrew the whole house.* 
 
 2. But our widow's sorrow is no storm, but a still rain. 
 Indeed some foolishly discharge the surplusage of their 
 passions on themselves, tearing their hair, so that their friends 
 coming to the funeral, know not which most to bemoan, the 
 dead husband, or the dying widow. Yet commonly it comes 
 to pass that such widows' grief is quickly emptied, which 
 streameth out at so large a vent ; whilst their tears that but 
 drop, will hold running a long time. 
 
 3. She continues a competent time in her widow's estate. 
 
 * Weaver, Fun. Monura. p. 473, out of Stow's Annals. 
 
20 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Anciently they were, at least, to live out their annum luctus, 
 their year of sorrow. But as some erroneously compute the 
 long lives of the patriarchs before the flood, not by solary but 
 lunary years, making a month a year : * so many over-hasty 
 widows cut their year of mourning very short, and within a 
 few weeks make post speed to a second marriage. 
 
 4. She doth not onfi/ live sole and single, but chaste and 
 honest. We know pesthouses always stand alone, and yet 
 are full of infectious diseases. Solitariness is not an infal- 
 lible argument of sanctity : and it is not enough to be un- 
 married, but to be undefiled. 
 
 5. Though going abt^oad sometimes about her business, she 
 never makes it her business to go abroad. Indeed man goeth 
 forth to his labour, and a widow in civil affairs is often forced 
 to act a double part of man and woman, and must go abroad 
 to solicit her business in person, what she cannot do by the 
 proxy of her friends. Yet even then slie is most careful of 
 her credit, and tender of her modesty, not impudently thrust- 
 ing into the society of men. Oh it is improper for tinder to 
 strike fire, and for their sex who are to be sued to, first to 
 intrude and offer their company ! 
 
 6. She loves to look on her husband's picture in the children 
 he hath left her ; not foolishly fond over them for their father's 
 sake (this were to kill them in honour of the dead), but giveth 
 them careful education. Her husband's friends are ever her 
 welcomest guests, whom she entertaineth with her best cheer, 
 and with honourable mention of their friend's and her hus- 
 band's memory. 
 
 7. If she can speak little good o f him, she speaks but little 
 of him : so handsomely folding up her discourse, that his 
 virtues are shewn outwards, and his vices wrapped up in 
 silence, as counting it barbarism to throw dirt on his memory 
 who hath moulds cast on his body. She is a champion for 
 his credit if any speak against him. Foolish is their project 
 who by raking up bad savour against their former husbands, 
 think thereby to perfume their bed for a second marriage. 
 
 8. She putteth her especial confdence in God's provideme. 
 Surely if he be a father to the fatherless, it must needs follow 
 
 * Yid. August, de Civitat. Dei, lib. 15. cap. 12. 
 
THE GOOD WIDOW. 21 
 that he is a husband to the widow. And therefore she 
 seeks to gain and keep his love unto her, by her constant 
 prayer and rehgious hfe. 
 
 9. S/ie will not mortgage her first husband's pawns, thereby 
 to purchase the good-will of a second. If she marrieth (for 
 which she hath the apostle's hcense, not to say mandate, 1 
 will that the younger widows marry), she will not abridge 
 her children of that which justly belongs unto them. Surely 
 a broken faith to the former, is but a weak foundation to 
 build thereon a loyal affection to a latter love. Yet if she 
 becomes a mother-in-law, there is no difference betwixt her 
 carriage to her own and her second husband's children, save 
 that she is severest to her own, over whom she hath the sole 
 jurisdiction. And if her second husband's children by a 
 former wife commit a fault, she had rather bind them over to 
 answer for it before their own father, than to correct them 
 herself, to avoid all suspicion of hard using of them. 
 
 XI. — The Life of the Lady Paula. 
 
 WHAT ! (will some say) having a wood of widows of 
 upright conversation, must you needs gather one 
 crooked with superstition to be pattern to all the rest? Must 
 Paula be their precedent, whose life was a very mass-book, 
 so that if every point of popery were lost, they might be 
 found in her practice ? 
 
 Nothing less. Indeed Paula lived in an age which was, 
 as I may say, in the knuckle and bending betwixt the pri- 
 mitive times and superstition, popery being then a-hatching, 
 but far from being fledged. Yea, no papist (though picking 
 out here and there some passages which make to his pur- 
 pose) will make her practice in gross the square of his own ; 
 for where she embraces some superstitions with her left hand, 
 she thrusts away more with her right. I have therefore 
 principally made choice to write her Ufe, that I may acquaint 
 both myself and the reader with the garb of that age in 
 church matters, wherein were many remarkable passages, 
 otherwise I might and would have taken a far fitter example. 
 
 I know two trades together are too much for one man to 
 thrive upon ; and too much it is for me to be an historian 
 and a critic, to relate and to judge : yet since Paula, though 
 
22 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 a gracious woman, was guilty of some great enors, give me 
 leave to hold a pencil in one hand, and a sponge in the other, 
 both to draw her life, and dash it where it is faulty. And 
 let us that live in purer times be thankful to God for our 
 light, and use our quicker sight to guide our feet in God's 
 paths, lest we reel from one extremity to another. 
 
 To come to the Lady Paula's birth : the noblest blood in 
 the world by a confluence ran in her veins. I must confess 
 the most ancient nobility is junior to no nobility, when all 
 men were equal. Yet give others leave to see Moses his 
 face to shine, when he knew it not himself; and seeing 
 Paula was pleased not to know, but to neglect and trample 
 on her high birth, we are bound to take notice thereof. She 
 was descended from Agamemnon,* Scipio,and the Gracchis, 
 and her husband Toxotius from iEneas,t and the Julian 
 family; so that in their marriage the wars of the Grecians 
 and Trojans were reconciled. 
 
 Some years they lived together in the city of Rome, in 
 holy and happy wedlock, and to her husband she bare four 
 daughters, Blesilla, Paulina, Eustochium, and Ruffina. Yet 
 still her husband longed for posterity ; like those who are so 
 covetous of a male heir, they count none children but sons : 
 and at last God, who keeps the best for the close, bestowed 
 Toxotius, a young son, upon her. 
 
 But commonly after a great blessing comes a great cross : 
 scarce was she made a mother to a son, when she was made 
 a widow, which to her was a great and grievous aflSiction. 
 But as a ub to an overthrovsTi bowl proves a help by hin- 
 dering it ; so afflictions bring the souls of God's saints to the 
 mark, which otherwise would be gone and transported with 
 too much earthly happiness. However, Paula grieved little 
 less than excessively hereat, she being a woman that in all 
 her actions (to be sure to do enough) made always measure 
 with advantage. 
 
 Yet in time she overcame her sorrow, herein being assisted 
 by the counsel and comfort of St. Hierome, whose constant 
 frequenting of her, commented upon by his enemies' malice 
 
 * Hieron. Epist. ad Eustoch. p. 185. 
 t Idem, ia eadeto Epist. p. 172. 
 
LIFE OF PAULA. 23 
 (which will pry narrowly and talk broadly) gave occasion to 
 the report, that he accompanied with her for dishonest in- 
 tents. Surely if the accusations of slanderous tongues be 
 proofs, the primitive times had no churches but stews. It 
 is to be suspected that Rufiin, * his sworn enemy, raised the 
 report ; and if the Lady Paula's memory wanted a compur- 
 gator, I would be one myself, it being improbable that those 
 her eyes would burn with lust which were constantly drowned 
 with tears. But the reader may find St. Hierome purging 
 himself; t and he who had his tongue and an innocent heart 
 needed nobody else to speak for him. 
 
 It happened that the bishops of the east and west were 
 summoned by the emperor's letters to appear at Rome for 
 the according of some differences in the church. J (It seems 
 by this that the pope did not so command in chief at Rome, 
 but that the power of congregating synods still resided in the 
 emperor.) Hither came Paulinus, bishop of Antioch, and 
 Epiphanius, bishop of Sal amine in Cyprus, who lodged at 
 the Lady Paula's, and his virtues so wrought upon her that 
 she determined to leave her native country, and to travel into 
 the east, and in Judea to spend the remainder of her life. 
 The reason that moved her to remove, was because Rome 
 was a place of riot and luxury, her soul being almost stifled 
 with the frequency of ladies' visits ; and she feared courtesy 
 in her would jostle out piety, she being fain to crowd up her 
 devotions to make room for civil entertainments. Besides, 
 of her own nature she ever loved privacy and a sequestered 
 life, being of the pelican's nature, which use not to fly in 
 flocks. Lastly, she conceived that the sight of those holy 
 places would be the best comment on the history of the 
 Bible, and fasten the passages thereof in her mind. Where- 
 fore she intended to survey all Palestine, and at last to go 
 to Bethlehem, making Christ's inn her home, and to die there 
 where he was born, leaving three of her daughters and her 
 poor infant Toxotius behind her. 
 
 For mine own part, I think she had done as acceptable a 
 deed to God, in staying behind to rock her child in the cradle, 
 
 * Erasmus, in Scholia in Epitaphium Paulae, p. 193. 
 
 t In Epistola quae incipit, " Si tibi putem," torn. 2. fol. 368. 
 
 + Hieronym. Epist. PraDdict. p. 172. 
 
24 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 as to visit Christ's manger, seeins: srace doth not cut off 
 the affections of nature, but ripen them : the rather, because 
 Christianity is not nailed to Christ's cross and Mount Cal- 
 var)', nor piety fastened (as we may say) to the freehold of 
 the land of Palestine. But if any papist make her a pattern 
 for pilgrimages, let them remember that she went firom Rome : 
 and was it not an unnatural motion in her to move from 
 that centre of sanctity ? 
 
 She, with her dauehter Eustochium, bes^n her journey, 
 and taking C\-pru5 in her way, where she visited Epiphanius, 
 she came at last to Judea. She measured that country with 
 her travelling, and drew the truest map thereof with her own 
 feet so accurately, that she left out no particular place of im- 
 portance. At last she was fixed at Bethlehem, where she 
 built one monaster}- for men, and three for women. It will be 
 worth our pains to take notice of some principal of the orders 
 she made in those feminine academies ; because Paula's prac- 
 tice herein was a leading case, though those that came after 
 her went beyond her. For in the rules of monastical life, 
 Paula stood at the head game, and the papists in after ages, 
 desirous to better her hand, drew themselves quite out. 
 
 Each monaster}' had a chief matron, whilst Paula was 
 principal over all. These societies were severed at their 
 meat and work, but met together at their prayers : they were 
 carefully kept apart from men, not like those Epicoene mo- 
 nasteries not long since invented by Joan Queen of Sweden, 
 wherein men and women lived under one roof, not to speak 
 of worse libertines. Well were nuns called recluses, which 
 according to the true meaning of the word signify those which 
 are set wide open, or left at liberty, though that barbarous 
 age mistook the sense of the word for such as were shut up, 
 and might not stir out of their cloister.* 
 
 They used to sing Hallelujah, which served them both for 
 a psalm and a bell to call them all to^rether. In themorning,t 
 at nine o'clock, at noon, at three o'clock in the afternoon, 
 and at night they had prayers, and san? the psalms in order. 
 This, I believe, gave origin to canonical hours. The apostle's 
 
 * Littleton, fol. 92. 
 
 t " Mane, horaterti4, sexta, noua, vesperi." — Hieron. in Prae- 
 fat. Epist. p. 180. Surely, living in Palestine, he meaneth the 
 Jewish computation of hours. 
 
LIFE OF PAULA. 25 
 precept is the plain song, Prai/ continually ; and thus men's 
 inventions ran their descants upon it, and confined it to cer- 
 tain hours. A practice in itself not so bad for those who 
 have leisure to observe it, save that when devotion is thus 
 artificially plaited into hours, it may take up men's minds in 
 formalities to neglect the substance. 
 
 They rose also at midnight to sing psalms. A custom 
 begun before in the time of persecution, when the Christians 
 were forced to be antipodes to other men, so that when it 
 was night with others it was day with them, and they then 
 began their devotions. These night prayers, begun in neces- 
 sity, were continued in Paula's time in grateful remembrance, 
 and since corrupted with superstition : the best is, their 
 rising at midnight breaks none of our sleep. 
 
 These virgins did every day learn some part of the holy 
 Scriptures ; whereas those nuns which pretend to succeed 
 them, learn only witli post-horses to run over the stage of 
 their beads (so many Ave-Maries and Paternosters), and are 
 ignorant in all the Scripture besides. Such as were faulty, 
 she caused to take their meat apart from others at the en- 
 trance of the dining room ; with which mild severity she re- 
 claimed many : shame in ingenuous natures making a deeper 
 impression than pain. Meantime I find amongst them no 
 vow of virginity, no tyrannical penance, no whipping them- 
 selves ; as if not content to inter their sins in Christ's grave, 
 they had rather bury them in furrows digged in their own 
 backs. They wrought hard to get their living, and on the 
 Lord's day alone went out of their monastery to hear God's 
 word. 
 
 Yet was she more rigid and severe towards herself than to 
 any of them, macerating her body with fasting, and refusing 
 to drink any wine, when advised tiiereto by physicians for 
 her health. So that (as a holy man complained of him- 
 self,* whilst he went about to subdue an enemy he killed a 
 subject) she overturned the state of her body, and whilst she 
 thought to snuff the candle, put it quite out. Yea, St. Hie- 
 rome himself, what his eloquence herein doth commend in 
 her, his charity doth excuse,t and his judgment doth con- 
 
 * Bernard. Devot. Devotis. 
 
 t " Haec refero, non quod inconsiderauter et ultra vires sumta 
 onera probem." P. 181. 
 
26 THE HOLT STATK 
 
 demn. But we must charitably believe that these her fastings 
 proceeded out of trae humiliation and sorrow for her sins ; 
 odiennse where opinion of merit is annexed to them, they 
 are good only to fill the body with wind, and the soul with 
 pnde. Certainly prodigious popish self-p«iance is will- 
 worship, and the purest epicurism, whaein pain is pleasant : 
 for as long as people impose it on themselves, th^ do not 
 deny their own wiU, but fulfil it ; and whilst they beat down 
 the body they may puff up the flesh. 
 
 Nor can her immoderate bount\' be excused, who gave all 
 and more than all away, taking up money at interest to give 
 to the poor, and leaving Eustochium her daughter deep in 
 ddit, a great diarge, and nothing to maintain it. Sure none 
 need be more bountiful in giving than the sun is in shining, 
 which thou^ freely bestowing his beams on the world keeps 
 notwithstanding the body of light to himself- Yea it is ne- 
 cessary that liberality should as well have banks as a stream. 
 
 She was an excellent text-woman, yea could say the holy 
 Scriptures by heart, and attained to understand and speak the 
 HdHCw tongue, a lai^uage which Hierome himself got with 
 great di£Bcalty, and kept with constant use (skill in Hebrew 
 will quickly go out, and bum no longer than it is blown), yet 
 she in her old age did speedily learn it. She diligently heard 
 Hierome expounding tiie Old and New Testament, asking 
 him many doubts and queries in difficult places (such con- 
 stant scourii^ makes our knowledge brighter), and would 
 not suffer his judgment to stand neuter in hard points, but 
 made him express the probable opinion. 
 
 Most naturally fly from death ; God's saints stand still 
 till death comes to them. Paula went out to meet it, not to 
 say called death unto her by consuming herself in fasting : 
 she died in the fifty-axth year of her age, and was solenmly 
 buried in Bethlehem. People of all countries flocked to her 
 funeral : bishops carried her corpse to the grave : others 
 carried torches and lamps before it, which though some may 
 condemn to be but burning of day, was no more than needed, 
 she hang buried in a cave or grot,* as an eyewitness doth 
 testify. Psalms were sung at her burial in the Hebrew, 
 Gred, Latin, and Syriac tongue, it being fit there should be 
 _j 
 
 * G. Sandys' Tiaveb, p. 179. 
 
LIFE OF PAULA. 27 
 a key for every lock, and languages to be understood by all 
 the miscellany company there present. 
 
 Eustochium her daughter had little comfort to be execu- 
 trix or administratrix unto her, leaving her not a penny of 
 money, great debts, and many brothers and sisters to provide 
 for, quos susteniare arduum abjicere. impium. I like not this 
 charity reversed, when it begins far off and neglects those 
 at home. 
 
 To conclude, I can do her memory no better right than 
 to confess she was wrong in some things. Yet surely God's 
 glory was the mark she shot at, though herein the hand of 
 her practice did sometimes shake, and oftener the eye of her 
 judgment did take wrong aim. 
 
 XII. — The Constant Virgin 
 
 IS one who hath made a resolution with herself to live 
 chaste and unmarried. Now there is a grand difference 
 betwixt a resolution and a vow. The former is a covenant 
 drawn up betwixt the party and herself ; and commonly 
 runs with this clause, durante nostra beneplacitOy as long as 
 we shall think fitting; and therefore on just occasion she 
 may give a release to herself. But in a vow God is interested 
 as the creditor, so that except he be pleased to give up the 
 bond, none can give an acquittance to themselves. Being 
 now to describe the virgin, let the reader know that vir- 
 ginity belongs to both sexes ; and though in courtesy we 
 make our maid a female, let not my pen be challenged of 
 impropriety, if casually sometimes it light on the mascuUne 
 gender. 
 
 1. She chooseth not a single life solely for itself, but in 
 reference to the belter serving of God. I know none but 
 beggars that desire the church porch to lie in, which others 
 only use as a passage into the church. Virginity is none of 
 those things to be desired in and for itself, but because it 
 leads a more convenient way to the worshipping of God, 
 especially in time of persecution. For then if Christians be 
 forced to run races for their lives, the unmarried have the 
 advantage, lighter by many ounces, and freed from much 
 encumbrance, which the married are subject to ; who, though 
 
28 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 private persons, herein are like princes, they must have their 
 
 train follow them. 
 
 2. She improveth her single life therewith to serve God the 
 more constantly. Housekeepers cannot so exactly mark all 
 their family affairs, but that sometimes their ranks will be 
 broken ; which disorder by necessary consequence will dis- 
 turb their duties of piety, to make them contracted, omitted, 
 or unseasonably performed. The apostle saith. Such shall 
 have troubles in the Jlesh ; and grant them sanctified troubles, 
 yet even holy thistle and sweetbrier have their prickles. But 
 the virgin is freed from these encumbrances. No lording 
 husband shall at the same time command her presence and 
 distance ; to be always near in constant attendance, and 
 always to stand aloof off in an awful observance ; so that 
 providing his breakfast hazards her soul to fast a meal of 
 morning prayer. No crying children shall drown her singing 
 of psalms, and put her devotion out of tune. No unfaithful 
 servants shall force her to divide her eyes betwixt lifting 
 them up to God, and casting them down to oversee their 
 work ; but making her closet her chapel, she freely enjoyeth 
 God and good thoughts at what time she pleaseth. 
 
 3. Yet in all her discourse she maketh an honourable men- 
 tion of marriage. And good reason that virginity should 
 pay a chief rent of honour unto it, as acknowledging herself 
 to be a colonia deductu from it. Unworthy is the practice of 
 those who in their discourse plant all their arguments point- 
 blank to batter down the married estate, bitterly inveighing 
 against it; yea base is the behaviour of some young men, 
 who can speak nothing but satires against God's ordinance 
 of matrimony, and the whole sex of women. This they do 
 either out of deep dissimulation, to divert suspicion, that 
 they may prey the furthest from their holes ; or else they do 
 it out of revenge : having themselves formerly lighted on bad 
 women (yet no worse than they deserved), they curse all ad- 
 ventures because of their own shipwreck ; or lastly, they do 
 it out of mere spite to nature and God himself : and pity 
 it is but that their fathers had been of the same opinion. 
 Yet it may be tolerable if only in harmless mirth they chance 
 to bestow a jest upon the follies of married people. Thus 
 when a gentlewoman told an ancient bachelor who looked 
 very young, that she thought he had eaten a snake : No, mis- 
 
THE CONSTANT VIRGIN. 29 
 tr€ss (said he), it is because I never meddled with any snakes 
 which maketh me look so young. 
 
 4. She counts herself better lost in a modest silence thaii 
 found in a bold discourse. Divinity permits not women to 
 speak in the church ; morahty forbids maids to talk in the 
 house, where their betters are present. She is far from the 
 humours of those who (more bridhng in their chins than 
 their tongues) love in their constant prating to make sweet 
 music to their own ears, and harsh jarring to all the rest of 
 the company : yea, as some report of sheep, that when they 
 run they are afraid of the noise of their own feet ; so our 
 virgin is afraid to hear her own tongue run in the presence 
 of graver persons. She conceives the bold maintaining of 
 any argument concludes against her own civil behaviour; 
 and yet she will give a good account of any thing whereof 
 she is questioned, sufficient to shew her silence is her choice, 
 not her refuge. In speaking, she studiously avoids all sus- 
 picious expressions, which wanton apprehensions may co- 
 lourably comment into obscenity. 
 
 5. She blusheth at the ivanton discourse of others in her 
 company. As fearing that being in the presence where trea- 
 son against modesty is spoken, all in the place will be ar- 
 raigned for principal ; yea if silent, she is afraid to be taken 
 to consent ; if offering to confute it, she fears lest by stirring 
 a dunghill, the savour may be more noisome. ^Vherefore 
 that she may not suffer in her title to modesty, to preserve 
 her right she enters a silent caveat by a blush in her cheeks, 
 and embraceth the next opportunity to get a gaol delivery 
 out of that company where she was detained in durance. 
 Now, because we have mentioned blushing, which is so fre- 
 quent with virgins that it is called a maiden's blush (as if they 
 alone had a patent to die this colour), give us leave a little 
 to enlarge ourselves on this subject. 
 
 1. Blushing of tentimes proceeds from guiltiness; when 
 the offender being pursued after, seeks, as it were, to hide 
 himself under the vizard of a new face. 
 
 2. Blushing is other times rather a compurgator thaii an 
 accuser; not arising from guiltiness in our virgin, but 
 from one of these reasons : First, Because she is surprised 
 with a sudden accusation; and though armed with inno- 
 cency, that she cannot he pierced, yet may she be amazed 
 
30 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 with so unexpected a charge. Secondly, From sensibleness 
 of disgrace, ashamed, though innocent, to be within the 
 suspicion of such fauUs, and that she hath carried herself 
 so that any tongue durst be so impudent as to lay it to 
 her charge. Thirdly, From a disability to acquit herself at 
 the instant (her integrity wanting rather clearing than 
 clearness) and perchance she wants boldness to traverse 
 the action, and so, nonsuiting herself, she fears her cause 
 will suffer in the judgments of all that be present : and 
 although accused but in jest, she is jealous the accusation 
 will be believed in earnest ; and edged tools thrown in 
 merriment may wound reputations. Fourthly, Out of mere 
 anger ; for as in fear the blood makes not an orderly retreat, 
 but a confused flight to the heart, so in blushing the blood 
 sallies out into our virgin's cheeks, and seems as a cham- 
 pion to challenge the accuser for wronging her. 
 
 3. Where small faults are committed^ blushing obtains 
 a pardo7i of course with ingenuous beholders. As if she 
 be guilty of casual incivilities, or solecisms in manners 
 occasioned by invincible ignorance, and unavoidable mis- 
 takes, in such a case blushing is a sufficient penance to 
 restore her to her state of innocence. 
 6. She imprisojis not herself with a solemn vow never to 
 marry. For first, none know their own strength herein. 
 Who hath sailed about the world of his own heart, sounded 
 each creek, surveyed each corner, but that still there remains 
 therein much terra incognita to himself? Junius, at the first 
 little better than a misogynist,* was afterwards so altered from 
 himself, that he successively married four wives. Secondly, 
 Fleshly corruption being pent will swell the more, and Shi- 
 mei being confined to Jerusalem will have the greater mind 
 to gad to Gath. Thirdly, The devil will have a fairer set 
 mark to shoot at, and will be most busy to make people 
 break their vow. Fourthly, God may justly desert people 
 for snatching that to themselves, which is most proper for 
 him to give, I mean continency. Object not, that thou wilt 
 pray to him to take from thee all desire of marriage, it being 
 madness to vow that one will not eat, and then pray to 
 
 * Junius, in his Life written by himself. 
 
THE CONSTANT VIRGIN. 31 
 God that he may not be hungry. Neither say that now thou 
 mayest presume on thyself, because thou art well stricken 
 in years, for there may happen an autumn-spring in thy 
 soul ; and lust is an unmannerly guest, we know not how 
 late in the evening of our lives it may intrude into us for a 
 lodging. 
 
 7. She counts it virginity/ to be unspotted, not unmarried. 
 Or else even in old age, when nature hath given an inhibition, 
 they may be strong in desiring who are weak in acting of 
 wickedness ; yea they may keep stews in their hearts, and be 
 so pregnant and ingravidated with lustful thoughts, that they 
 may as it were die in travail because they cannot be delivered. 
 And though there be no fire seen outwardly, as in the En- 
 glish chimneys, it may be hotter within, as in the Dutch 
 stoves ; and as well the devils as the angels in heaven neither 
 marry nor are given in inurriage. 
 
 8. As she lives with less care, so she dies with more cheerful- 
 ness. Indeed she was rather a sojourner than an inhabitant 
 in this world, and therefore forsakes it with the less grief. In a 
 word, the way to heaven is alike narrow to all estates, but 
 far smoother to the virgin than to the married. Now the 
 great advantage virgins have to serve God above others, and 
 high favours he hath bestowed on some of them, shall appear 
 in this virgin prophetess, whose life we come to present. 
 
 XIII. — The Life of Hildegardis. 
 
 HJLDEGARDIS was bom in Germany, in the county 
 of Spanheim, in the year 1098. So that she lived in 
 an age which we may call the first cock-crowing after the mid- 
 night of ignorance and superstition. 
 
 Her parents (Hidebert and Mechtilda) dedicated her to 
 God from her infancy : and surely those whose childhood, 
 with Hildegardis, hath had the advantage of pious education 
 may be said to have been good time out of mind, as not able 
 to remember the beginning of their own goodness. At eight 
 years of age she became a nun under St. Jutta, sister to Me- 
 genhard, earl of Spanheim, and afterwards she was made 
 abbess of St. Rupert's Nunnery in Bingen on Rhine in the 
 Palatinate. 
 
 Men commonly do beat and bruise their links before they 
 
32 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 light them, to make tliem bum the brighter : God first hum- 
 bles and afflicts whom he intends to illuminate with more 
 than ordinary grace. Poor Hildegardis was constantly and 
 continually sick,* and so weak that she very seldom was 
 strong enough to go. But God, who denied her legs, gave 
 her wings, and raised her high-mounted soul in visions and 
 revelations. 
 
 I know a general scandal is cast on revelations in this 
 ignorant age : first, because many therein entitled the meteors 
 of their own brain to be stars at least, and afterwards their 
 revelations have been revealed to be forgeries: secondly, 
 because that night-raven did change his black feathers into the 
 silver wings of a dove, and transforming himself into an angel 
 of light deluded many with strange raptures and visions, though 
 in their nature far difiereut fi-om those in the Bible. For St. 
 Paul in his revelations was caught up into the third heaven ; 
 whereas most monks with a contrarv- motion were carried into 
 hell and purgaton.-, and there saw apparitions of strange tor- 
 ments. Also St. John's Revelation forbids all additions to 
 the Bible, under heav\- penalties : their visions are commonly 
 on purpose to piece out the Scripture, and to establish such 
 superstitions as have no footing in God's word. 
 
 However, all held Hildegardis for a prophet, being induced 
 thereunto by the pietj- of her life : (no brack was ever found 
 in her veil, so spotless was her conversation ;) by the sanctity 
 of her writings, and by the general approbation the church 
 gave imto her. For Pope Eugenius the Third, after exact ex- 
 amination of the matter, did in tl^e counsel of Trevers, wherein 
 St. Bernard was present, allow and privilege her revelations 
 for authentical. She was of the pope's conclave and em- 
 peror's council, to whom they had recourse in difiiculties : 
 yea the greatest torches of the chtirch lighted themselves at 
 her candle. The patriarch of Jerusalem, the bishops of 
 Mentz, Colen, Breme, Trevers, sent such knots as posed their 
 ovi-n fingers to our Hildegardis to untie. 
 
 She never learned word of Latin ; t and yet therein would 
 
 * " Fuerunt ei ab ipsa peae inrantia crebri ac fere continui lan- 
 guorum dolores, ita ut pedum incessu perraro uteretur." — Theod. 
 Abbas in Vita Hildegardis, lib. 1. cap. 2. 
 
 t Trithemius, de Scriptor. Eccles. fol. 92. 
 
LIFE OF HILDEGARDIS, 33 
 she fluently express her revelation to those notaries that took 
 them from her mouth ; so that throwing words at random she 
 never brake Priscian's head : as if the Latin had learned to 
 make itself true without the speaker's care. And no doubt 
 he that brought the single parties to her, married them also in 
 her mouth, so that the same spirit which furnished her with 
 Latin words, made also the true syntaxis. Let none object 
 that her very writing of fifty-eight homilies on the gospel is 
 false construction, where the feminine gender assumes an 
 employment proper to men : for though St. Paul silenceth 
 women for speaking in the church, I know no Scripture for- 
 bids them from writing on Scripture. 
 
 Such infused skill she had also of music, whereof she was 
 naturally ignorant, and wrote a whole book of verses very 
 good according to those times. Indeed in that age the trum- 
 pet of the warlike heroic, and the sweet harp of the lyric verse, 
 were all turned into the jinghng of cymbals, tinkling with 
 rhymes and hke-sounding cadences. 
 
 But let us hear a few lines of her prophecies, and thence 
 guess the rest. In those days there shall rise up a people 
 without understandings proud^ covetous^ and deceitful, the 
 which shall eat the sins of the people, holding a certain oi^der 
 of foolish devotion under the feigned cloke oj beggary. Also 
 they shall instantly preach without devotion or example of the 
 holy martyrs, and shall detract from the secular princes, taking 
 away the sacraments of the church from the true pastors, 
 receiving alms of the poor, having familiarity with women, 
 instructing them how they shall deceive their husbands, and 
 rob their husbands to give it unto them,* &c. W hat could 
 be said more plain to draw out to the life those mendicant 
 friars (rogues by God's statutes) who afterwards swarmed in 
 the world ? 
 
 Hear also how she foretold the low water of Tiber, whilst as 
 yet it was full tide there. The kings and other rulers of the 
 world, being stirred up by the just judgment of God, shall set 
 themselves against them, and run upon them, saying, We will 
 not have these men to reign over us with their rich houses, and 
 great possessions, and other worldly riches, over the which we 
 
 * See much more to this purpose in Catalog. Testium Vei itatis 
 in Hildegardi : also in Fox's Acts and Monuments, p. 461. 
 D 
 
34 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 are ordained to be lords and rulers ; and how is it meet or 
 comely that those shavelings with their stoles andchesils should 
 have more soldiers or richer armour and artillery than we ? 
 wherefore let us take away from them what they do not justly 
 hut wrongfully possess. 
 
 It is well the Index Expurgatorius was not up in those 
 days, nor the Inquisition on foot, otherwise Dame Hildegardis 
 must have been called to an after-account. I will only ask 
 a Romanist this question. This prophecy of Hildegardis, was 
 it from heaven or from men ? If from heaven, why did ye 
 not believe it? If from men, why did the pope allow it, and 
 canonize her ? 
 
 As for miracles which she wrought in her lifetime, their 
 number is as admirable as their nature. I must confess at 
 my first reading of them,* my behef digested some, but sur- 
 feited on the rest : for she made no more to cast out a devil 
 than a barber to draw a tooth, and with less pain to the 
 patient. I never heard of a great feast made all of cordials 
 and it seems improbable that miracles (which in Scripture 
 are used sparingly, and chiefly for conversion of unbelievers) 
 should be heaped so many together, made every day's work, 
 and by her commonly, constantly, and ordinarily, wrought. 
 And I pray why is the popish church so barren of true 
 works now-a-days here wrought at home amongst us ? For 
 as for those reported to be done far off, it were ill for some 
 if the gold from the Indies would abide the touch no better 
 than the miracles. 
 
 However, Hildegardis was a gracious \nrgin, and God 
 might perform some great wonders by her hand ; but these 
 piafraudes with their painting have spoiled the natural com- 
 plexion of many a good face, and have made truth itself 
 suspected. She died in the eighty-second year of her age, 
 was afterwards sainted by the pope, and the 17 th day of 
 September assigned to her memory. 
 
 I cannot forget how Udalrick, abbot of Kempten in Ger- 
 many made a most courteous law for the weaker sex,f That 
 
 * In Lipoman, in Vitis Sanct. torn. 5. fol. 91. et seq. 
 + Bruschius, De Monaster, et Centuriatores, centur. 11. col. 
 350. 
 
LIFE OF HILDEGARDIS: 35 
 no woman, guilty of what crime soever, should ever be put 
 to death in his dominions, because two women condemned 
 to die were miraculously delivered out of the prison by praying 
 to St. Hildegardis. 
 
 XIV. — The Elder Brother 
 
 IS one who made haste to come into the world to bring his 
 parents the first news of male posterity, and is well re- 
 warded for his tidings. His composition is then accounted 
 most precious when made of the loss of a double virginity. 
 
 1. He is thankful for the advantage God gave him at the 
 starting in the race into this world. When twins have been 
 even matched, one hath gained the goal but by his length. 
 St. Augustine saith,* That it is every mans hounden duty 
 solemnly to celebrate his birthday. If so, elder brothers may 
 best afford good cheer on the festival. 
 
 2. He counts not his inheritance a writ of ease to free him 
 from industry ; as if only the younger brothers came into 
 the world to work, the elder to compliment. These are the 
 tops of their houses indeed, like cotlofts, highest and emptiest. 
 Rather he laboureth to furnish himself with all gentle accom- 
 plishment, being best able to go to the cost of learning. He 
 need not fear to be served as Ulrick Fugger was (chief of the 
 noble family of the Fuggers in Auspurg), who was disin- 
 herited of a great patrimony only for his studiousness,f and 
 expensiveness in bupng costly manuscripts. 
 
 3. He doth not so remember he is an heir, that he forgets 
 he is a son. Wherefore his carriage to his parents is always 
 respectful. It may chance that his father may be kept in a 
 charitable prison, whereof his son hath the keys ; the old 
 man being only tenant for life, and the lands entailed on our 
 young gentleman. In such a case, when it is in his power, 
 if necessity requires, he enlargeth his father to such a reason- 
 able proportion of liberty as may not be injurious to himself. 
 
 4. He rather desires hisfathei^'s life than his living. This 
 was one of the principal reasons (but God knows how true) 
 why Philip the Second, king of Spain, caused, in the year 
 
 * Quaestionibus ex utroque Mixtim, torn. 40. col. 8. 4. 
 t Thuan. de Obit. vir. Doct. in ann. 1584. 
 
36 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 1568, Charles his eldest son to be executed for plotting his 
 father's death, as was pretended. And a wit in such dif- 
 ficult toys accommodated the numeral letters in Ovid's verse 
 to the year wherein the prince suffered. 
 
 FILIVs ante DIeM patrlos InqVIrIt In annos. 
 1568. 
 
 Before the tlMe^ the oVer-hasty sonne 
 Seeks forth ho VV near the father's Life Is Done. 
 1568.* 
 
 But if they had no better evidence against him but this 
 poetical synchronism, we might w^ell count him a martyr. 
 
 5. His father s deeds and grants he ratifies and confirms. 
 If a stitch be fallen in a lease, he will not widen it into a hole 
 by cavilling, till the whole strength of the grant run out 
 thereat; or take advantage of the default of the clerk in the 
 writing where the deed appears really done, and on a valu- 
 able consideration ; he counts himself bound in honour to 
 perform what by marks and signs he plainly understands his 
 father meant, though he spake it not out. 
 
 6. He refiecteth his lustre to grace and credit his younger 
 brethren. Thus Scipio Africanus, after his great victories 
 against the Carthaginians and conquering of Hannibal, was 
 content to serve as a lieutenant in the wars of Asia,f under 
 Lucius Scipio his younger brother. 
 
 7. He relieveth his distressed kindred, yet so as he con- 
 tinues them in their calling. Otherwise, they would all make 
 his house their hospital, his kindred their calling. When 
 one being an husbandman challenged kindred of Robert 
 Grosthead, bishop of Lincoln, and thereupon requested 
 favour of him to bestow an office on him ; Cousin (quoth the 
 bishop), if your cart be broken, Til mend it ; if your plough 
 be old, I II give you a new one, and seed to sow your land; 
 but an husbandman I found you, and an husbandman Til 
 leave you. It is better to ease poor kindred in their pro- 
 fession, than to ease them from their profession. 
 
 8. He is careful to support the credit and dignity of his 
 
 * Opmerus was the author thereof : Famianus, Strada de Belle 
 Belgiro, lib. 7. p. 432. 
 
 t Plutarch, in the Life of Scipio. 
 
THE ELDER BROTHER. 37 
 family ; neither wasting his paternal estate by his unthrifti- 
 ness, nor marring it by parcelling his ancient manors and 
 demesnes amongst his younger children, whom he provides 
 for by annuities, pensions, moneys, leases, and purchased 
 lands. He remembers how when our King Alfred divided 
 the river of Lee (which parts Hertfordshire and Essex) into 
 three streams, it became so shallow that boats could not 
 row, where formerly ships did ride. Thus the ancient family 
 of the Woodfords (which had long continued in Leicester- 
 shire and elsewhere in England in great account, estate, and 
 hvelihood) is at this day quite extinct. For when Sir Thomas 
 Woodford, in the reign of King Henry the Sixth, made al- 
 most an even partition of his means betwixt his five grand- 
 children, the house in short space utterly decayed ; not any 
 part of his lands now in the tenure or name of any of his 
 male line, some whereof lived to be brought to a low ebb of 
 fortune.* Yet on the other side to leave all to the eldest, and 
 make no provision for the rest of their children, is against all 
 rules of religion, forgetting their Christian name to remember 
 their surname. 
 
 XV. — The Younger Brother. 
 
 SOME account him the better gentleman of the two, because 
 son to the more ancient gentleman. Wherein his elder 
 brother can give him the hearing, and a smile into the bar- 
 gain. He shares equally with his elder brother in the edu- 
 cation, but differs from him in his portion, and though he 
 giveth also his father's arms, yet, to use the herald's language, 
 he may say, 
 
 This to my elder brother I must yield ; 
 
 I have the charge, hut he hath ail the field. 
 Like herein to a young nephew of Tarquin's in Rome, who 
 was called Egereus,t from wanting of maintenance, because 
 his grandfather left him nothing. It was therefore a man- 
 nerly answer which a young gentleman gave to King James, 
 when he asked him what kin he was to such a lord of his 
 name : Please your majesty (said he), my elder brother is his 
 cousin-german. 
 
 * Burton, in his Descrip. of Leictstershire, p. 264. 
 t Livy, lib. 1. 
 
38 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 1. He repines not at the providence of God in ordering 
 his birth. Heirs are made, even where matches are, both in 
 heaven. Even in twins God will have one next the door to 
 come first into the world. 
 
 2. He labours by his endeavours to date himself an elder 
 brother. Nature makes but one ; industry doth make all 
 the sons of the same man heirs. The fourth brother gives a 
 martilet for the difference of his arras : * a bird observed to 
 build either in castles, steeples, or ships, shewing that the 
 bearer hereof, being debarred from all hopes of his father's 
 inheritance, must seek by war, learning, or merchandise to 
 advance his estate. 
 
 3. In war he cuts out his fortunes with his own sword. 
 "William the Conqueror, when he first landed his forces in 
 England, burnt all his ships, that despair to return might 
 make his men the more valiant. Younger brothers, being 
 cut off at home from all hopes, are more zealous to purchase 
 an honourable support abroad. Their small arteries with 
 great spirits have wrought miracles, and their resolution hath 
 driven success before it. Many of them have adventured to 
 cheapen dear enterprises, and w^ere only able to pay the 
 earnest, yet fortune hath accepted them for chapmen, and 
 hath freely forgiven them the rest of the payment for their 
 boldness. 
 
 4. Nor are they less happy if applying themselves to their 
 book : Nature generally giving them good wits, which be- 
 cause they want room to burnish, may the better afford to 
 soar high. 
 
 5. But he gaineth more wealth if betaking himself to mer- 
 chandise. Whence often he riseth to the greatest annual 
 honour in the kingdom. Many families in England, though 
 not first raised from the city, yet thence have been so restored 
 and enriched that it may seem to amount to an original 
 raising. Neither doth an apprenticeship extinguish native, nor 
 disenable to acquisitive gentry ; and they are much mistaken 
 who hold it to be in the nature of bondage. For first, his 
 indenture is a civil contract, whereof a bondsman is inca- 
 pable : secondly, no work can be base prescribed in refer- 
 ence to a noble end, as theirs is that learn an honest mystery 
 
 * Gerard Leigh, in his Nine Differences of Broihers' Arms. 
 
THE YOUNGER BROTHER. 39 
 to enable them for the service of God and the country : thirdly, 
 they give round sums of money to be bound. Now if ap- 
 prenticeship be a servitude, it is either a pleasing bondage, 
 or strange madness to purchase it at so dear a rate. Gentry 
 therefore may be suspended perchance, and asleep during 
 the apprenticeship, but it awakens afterwards. 
 
 6. Sometimes he raiseth his estate by applying himself to 
 the court : a pasture wherein elder brothers are observed to 
 grow lean, and younger brothers fat. The reasons whereof 
 may be these : 
 
 1. Younger brothers, being but slender in estate, are 
 easier bowed to a court-compliance than elder brothers, 
 who stand more stiff on their means, and think scorn to 
 crave what may be a prince's pleasure to grant, and their 
 profit to receive. 
 
 2. They make the court their calling, and study the 
 mystery thereof ; whilst elder brothers, divided betwixt the 
 court and the country, can have their endeavours deep in 
 neither, which run in a double channel. 
 
 3. Elder brothers spend highly in proportion to their 
 estates, expecting afterwards a return with increase, which 
 notwithstanding never pays the principal : and whilst they 
 thus build so stately a staircase to their preferment, the 
 younger brothers get up by the back stairs in a private 
 silent way, little expense being expected from them that 
 have little. 
 
 7. Sometimes he Ughteth on a wealthy match to advance 
 him. If meeting with one that is pilot of her own affections, 
 to steer them without guidance of her friends, and such as 
 disdaineth her marriage should be contmcted in an exchange, 
 where jointure must weigh every grain even to the portion. 
 Rather she counts it an act both of love and charity to affect 
 one rich in deserts, who commonly hath the advantage of 
 birth, as she hath of means, and so it is made level betwixt 
 them. And thus many a young gentleman hath gotten ho- 
 nourable maintenance by an heiress, especially when the 
 crying of the child hath caused the laughing of the father. 
 
 8. His means the more hardly gotten are the more care- 
 fully kept. Heat gotten by degrees, with motion and exercise, 
 is more natural, and stays longer by one, than what is gotten 
 all at once by coming to the fire. Goods acquired by indus- 
 try prove commonly more lasting than lands by descent. 
 
40 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 9. He ever owneth his elder brother with dutiful respect : 
 yea though God should so bless his endeavours as to go 
 beyond him in wealtli and honour. The pride of Jesuits is 
 generally taxed, who being the youngest of all other orders, 
 and therefore by canon to go last,* will never go in procession 
 with other orders, because they will not come behind them. 
 
 10. Sometimes the paternal inheritance Jails to them who 
 Tiever hoped to rise to it. Thus John, surnamed Sans-terre, 
 or Without-land, having five elder brothers, came to the king- 
 dom of England, death levelling those which stood betwixt 
 him and his crown. It is observed of the Coringtons,t an 
 ancient family in Cornwall, that for eight lineal descents 
 never any one that was born heir had the land, but it ever 
 fell to younger brothers. 
 
 To conclude, there is a hill in Voitland (a small country 
 in Germany) called Feitchtelberg, out of which arise four 
 rivers running four several ways, viz. 1. Eger, east; 2. Menus, 
 west; 3. Sala, north ; and 4. Nabus, south: so that he that 
 sees their fountains so near together would admire at their 
 fells so far asunder. Thus the younger sons issuing out of 
 the same mother's womb and father's loins, and afterwards 
 embracing different courses to try their fortunes abroad in the 
 world, chance often to die far off, at great distance, which 
 were all bom in the same place. 
 
 XVI. — The Good Advocate, | 
 
 HE is one that will not plead that cause wherein his 
 tongue must be confuted by his conscience. It is the 
 praise of the Spanish soldier that, whilst all other nations are 
 mercenary, and for money will serve on any side, he will 
 never fight against his own king; nor will our advocate 
 against the sovereign truth, plainly appearing to his con- 
 science. 
 
 1. He not only hears but examines his client, and pincheth 
 the cause xchere he fears it is foundered. For many clients 
 in telling their case rather plead than relate it, so that the 
 
 * Vide Preface to the Jesuits' Catechism. 
 
 t Carew, Survey of Cornwall, fol. 117. 
 
 J We take it promiscuously for civil or common lawyer. 
 
THE GOOD ADVOCATE. 41 
 advocate hears not the true state of it, till opened by the 
 adverse party. Surely the lawyer that fills himself with in- 
 structions will travel longest in the cause without tiring. 
 Others that are so quick in searching, seldom search to the 
 quick ; and those miraculous apprehensions who understand 
 more than all before the client hath told half, run without 
 their errand, and will return without their answer. 
 
 2. I/' the matter he doubtful, he will only warrant hk own 
 diligence. Yet some keep an assurance office in their cham- 
 ber, and will warrant any cause brought unto them, as know- 
 ing that if they fail they lose nothing but what long since was 
 lost, their credit. 
 
 3. He makes not a Trojan siege of a suit, but seeks to 
 bring it to a set battle in a speedy trial. Yet sometimes suits 
 are continued by their difficulty, the potency and stomach of 
 the parties, without any default in the lawyer. Thus have 
 there depended suits in Gloucestershire,* betwixt the heirs 
 of the Lord Barkley and Sir Thomas Talbot Viscount Lisle, 
 ever since the reign of King Edward the Fourth, until now 
 lately they were finally compounded. 
 
 4. He is faithful to the side that first retains him. Not 
 like Demosthenes,f who secretly wrote one oration for 
 Phormio, and another in the same matter for Apolidorus his 
 adversary. 
 
 5. In pleading he shoots fairly at the head of the cause, 
 and having fastened, no frowns nor favours shall make him 
 let go his hold. Not snatching aside here and there to no 
 purpose, speaking little in much, as it was said of Anaxi- 
 menes, That he had a flood of words, and a drop of reason. 
 His boldness riseth or falleth as he apprehends the goodness 
 or badness of his cause. 
 
 6. He joys not to be retained in such a suit where all the 
 right in question is but a drop blown up with malice to be a 
 bubble. Wherefore in such trivial matters he persuades his 
 client to sound a retreat, and make a composition. 
 
 7. When his name is up, his industry is not dmvn, thinking 
 to plead not by h'ls study but his credit. Commonly phy- 
 
 t 
 
 ♦ Cambden's Brit, in Gloucest. 
 t Plutarch, in Vita Demosth. 
 
42 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 sicians, like beer, are best when they are old, and lawyers, 
 
 like bread, when they are young and new. But our advocate 
 
 grows not lazy. And if a leading case be out of the road 
 
 of his practice, he will take pains to trace it through his 
 
 books, and prick the footsteps thereof wheresoever he finds 
 
 it. 
 
 8. He is more careful to deserve than greedi/ to take fees. 
 He accounts the very pleading of a poor widow's honest 
 cause sufficient fees, as conceiving himself then the King of 
 Heaven's advocate, bound ex ofjicio to prosecute it. And 
 although some may say that such a lawyer may even go live 
 in Cornwall,* where it is observed tliat few of that profes- 
 sion hitherto have gro^Mi to any great livelihood, yet shall he 
 (besides those two felicities of common lawyers,t that they 
 seldom die either without heirs or making a will) find God's 
 blessing on his provisions and posterity. 
 
 ^^'e will respite him a while till he comes to be a judge, 
 and tlien we Nvill give an example of both together. 
 
 XVII. — The Good Physician. 
 
 1 . T T E trusteth not the single witness of the water, if 
 J-X better testimony may be had. For reasons drawn 
 from the urine alone are as brittle as the urinal. Sometimes 
 the water runneth in such post haste through the sick man s 
 body, it can give no account of anything memorable in the 
 passage, though the most judicious eye examine it. Yea the 
 sick man may be in the state of death, and yet life appear 
 in his state. 
 
 2. Coming to his patient he persuades him to put his trust 
 in God, the fountain of health. The neglect hereof hath 
 caused the bad success of the best physicians : for God will 
 manifest that though skill come mediately from him to be 
 gotten by man's pains, success comes from him immediately 
 to be disposed at his pleasure. 
 
 3. He hansels not his new experiments on the bodies of his 
 patients: letting loose mad recipes into the sick man's body. 
 
 * Carew, Survey of CornwallT fol. 60. 
 
 t Coke, in his Preface to Littleton's Tenures. 
 
THE GOOD PHYSICIAN. 43 
 to try how well nature in him will fight against them, whilst 
 himself stands by and sees the battle, except it be in desperate 
 cases, when death must be expelled by death. 
 
 4. To poo?' people he prescribes cheap but wholesome medi- 
 cines: not removing the consumption out of their bodies into 
 their purses ; nor sending them to the East Indies for drugs, 
 when they can reach better out of their gardens. 
 
 5. Lest his apothecary/ should oversee, he oversees his apo- 
 thecary/. For though many of that profession be both able 
 and honest, yet some out of ignorance or haste may mistake; 
 witness one of Bloys,* who being to serve a doctor's bill, in- 
 stead of Optimi (short written) read Opii, and had sent the 
 patient asleep to his grave, if the doctor's watchfulness had 
 not prevented him : worse are those who make wilful errors, 
 giving one thing for another. A prodigal who had spent his 
 estate was pleased to jeer himself, boasting that he had co- 
 zened those who had bought his means. " They gave me," 
 said he, " good new money, and I sold them my great-great- 
 grandfather's old land." But this cozenage is too true in many 
 apothecaries, selling to sick folk for new money antiquated 
 drugs, and making dying men's physic of dead ingredients. 
 
 6. He brings not news, with a false spy, that the coast is 
 clear, till death surprises the sick man. I know physicians 
 love to make the best of their patient's estate : first, it is 
 improper that Adjutores vita should be Nuncii mortis ; se- 
 condly, none with their good will will tell bad news ; third- 
 ly, their fee may be the worse for it ; fourthly, it is a con- 
 fessing that their art is conquered ; fifthly, it will poison 
 their patient's heart with grief, and make it break before the 
 time. However, they may so order it, that the party may be 
 informed of his dangerous condition, that he be not outed of 
 this world before he be provided for another. 
 
 7. When he can keep life no longer in, he makes a fair and 
 easy passage for it to go out. He giveth his attendance for 
 the facilitating and assuaging of the pains and agonies of 
 death. Yet generally it is death to a physician to be with a 
 dying man. 
 
 8. Unworthy pretenders to physic are rather foils than 
 
 * Stephens' Apology for Herodotus, lib. 1. cap. 16. 
 
44 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 fitains to the profession. Such a one was that counterfeit, 
 who called himself The Baron of Blackamore* and feigned 
 he was sent from the emperor to our young King Henry the 
 Sixth, to be his principal physician ; but his forgery being 
 discovered, he was apprehended, and executed in the Tower 
 of London, anno 1426 ; and such the world daily swarms 
 with. Well did the poets feign jEsculapius and Circe, 
 brother and sister, and both children of the sun : for in all 
 times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches, old women, 
 and impostors, have had a competition with physicians. 
 And commonly the most ignorant are the most confident in 
 their undertakings, and will not stick to tell you what disease 
 the gall of a dove is good to cure. He took himself to be 
 no mean doctor who, being guilty of no Greek, and being 
 demanded why it was called an hectic fever ; because^ saith 
 he, of a kecking cough which ever attendeth that disease. And 
 here it will not be amiss to describe the life of the famous 
 quacksalver Paracelsus, both because it is not ordinarily to 
 be met with, and that men may see what a monster many 
 make a miracle of learning, and propound him their pattern 
 in their practice. 
 
 XVIII. — The Life of Paracelsus. 
 
 PHILIP Theophrastus Bombastus of Hoenhaim, or Pa- 
 racelsus, born, as he saith himself, in the wilderness of 
 Helvetia, anno 1493, of the noble and ancient family of the 
 Hoenhaims. But Thomas Erastus, making strict enquiry 
 after his pedigree, found none of his name or kindred in that 
 place. Yet it is fit so great a chemist should make himself 
 to be of noble extraction : and let us believe him to be of 
 high descent, as perchance born on some mountain in Swit- 
 zerland. 
 
 As for his education, f he himself boasts that he lived in 
 most universities of Europe ; surely rather as a traveller than 
 a student, and a vagrant than a traveller, yea, some will not 
 allow him so much,;}: and one who hath exactly measured 
 
 * Stowe's Survey of London, p. 55. 
 t In Praefatione Chirurgiae Magnae. 
 i Sennertus de Chymicorum Consensu, cap. 4. p. 35. 
 
LIFE OF PARACELSUS. 45 
 the length of his life, though crowding his pretended travels 
 very close, finds not room enough for them. But it is too 
 ridiculous what a scholar of his relates ,* that he lived ten 
 years in Arabia to get learning, and conversed in Greece 
 with the Athenian philosophers. Whereas in that age Arabia 
 the Happy was accursed with barbarism, and Athens grown 
 a stranger to herself ; both which places being then subjected 
 to the Turks, the very ruins of all learning were ruined there. 
 Thus we see how he better knew to act his part, than to lay 
 his scene, and had not chronology enough to tell the clock 
 of time, when and where to place his lies to make them like 
 truth. 
 
 The first five-and-twenty years of his age he lived very 
 civilly. Being thirty years old he came to Basil, just at the 
 alteration of religion, when many papists were expelled the 
 university, and places rather wanted professors, than pro- 
 fessors places. Here, by the favour of Oecolampadius, he 
 was admitted to read physic, and for two years behaved him- 
 self fairly, till this accident caused his departure.! A rich 
 canon of Basil being sick, promised Paracelsus a hundred 
 florins to recover him, which being restored to his health he 
 denied to pay. Paracelsus sues him, is cast in his suit, the 
 magistrate adjudging him only an ordinary fee, because the 
 cure was done presently with a few pills. The physician 
 enraged hereat talked treason against the state in all his dis- 
 courses, till the nimbleness of his tongue forced the nimble- 
 ness of his feet, and he was fain to fly into Alsatia. Here 
 keeping company with the gentry of the country, he gave him- 
 self over to all licentiousness : his body was the sea wherein 
 the tide of drunkenness was ever ebbing and flowing : for by 
 putting his finger in his throat he used to spew out his drink 
 and drunkenness together, and from that instant date himself 
 sober to return to his cups again. Every month he had a 
 new suit, not for pride but necessity; his apparel serving 
 both for wearing and bedding : and having given his clothes 
 many vomits, he gave them to the poor. Being Codrus 
 over-night, he would be Croesus in the morning, flush of 
 
 * Bickeius, in Hermele Redivivo. 
 
 t Bezoldus, Consideratione Vitae et Mort. p. 76, ex Andrsa 
 Jocisio. 
 
46 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 money as if he carried the invisible Indies in his pocket : 
 some suspected the devil was his pursebearer, and that he 
 carried a spirit in the pommel of his sword, his constant com- 
 panion, whilst others maintain that by the heat of the furnace 
 he could ripen any metal into gold. 
 
 All the diet he prescribed his patients was this, to eat what 
 and how often they thought fitting themselves, and yet he did 
 most strange cures. Like the quicksilver he so much dealt 
 with, he would never be fixed in one place, or Uve anywhere 
 longer than a twelvemonth : for some observe that by that time 
 the maladies reverted again, which he formerly cured. He 
 gave such strong physic as summoned nature with all her force 
 to expel the present disease, but the remnant dregs thereof 
 afterwards reinforcing themselves did assault nature, tired out 
 with the violence of her former task, and easily subdued it. 
 
 His scholars brag that the fragments of his learning would 
 feast all the pliilosophers in the world, boasting that the gout, 
 the disgrace of physic, was the honour of Paracelsus, who by 
 curing it removed that scandal fi*om his profession : whereas 
 others say he had little learning, and less Latin. When any 
 asked him the name of an herb he knew not, he would tell 
 them there was no use thereof in physic ; * and yet this man 
 would undertake not only to cure men, but to cure the art of 
 curing men, and reform physic itself. 
 
 As for his religion, it would as well pose himself as others 
 to tell what it was. He boasted that shortly he would order 
 Luther and the Pope, as well as he had done Galen and Hip- 
 pocrates. He was never seen to pray, and seldom came to 
 church. He was not only skilled in natural magic (the utmost 
 bounds whereof border on the suburbs of hell) but is charged 
 to converse constantly with familiars. Guilty he was of all 
 vices but wantonness ; f and I find an honest man his com- 
 purgator, that he was not given to women; perchance he 
 drank himself into wantonness and past it, quenching the fire 
 of his lust by piling fuel too hard and fast upon it. 
 
 Boasting that he could make a man immortal, he himself 
 died at forty-seven years in the city of Saltzburg. His scho- 
 
 * Beroldus ut prius, p. 77. 
 
 t Oporinus, in Epist. de Paracelso. 
 
LIFE OF PARACELSUS. 47 
 lars say he was poisoned through the envy (that dark shadow 
 ever waiting on a shining merit) and maUce of his adversaries. 
 However, his body should have been so fenced with antidotes 
 that the battery of no poison might make a breach therein ; 
 except we impute it more to his neglect than want of skill, 
 and that rather his own security than his enemies' malice 
 brought him to his grave. But it may be he was willing to 
 die, counting a twelvemonth's time enough to stay in one 
 place, and forty-seven years long enough to live in one world. 
 We may more admire that so beastly a drunkard lived so 
 long, than that so skilful a man died so soon. In a word, 
 he boasted of more than he could do, did more cures seem- 
 ingly than really, more cures really than lawfully ; of more 
 parts than learning, of more fame than parts ; a better phy- 
 sician than a man, a better chirurgeon than physician. 
 
 XIX. — The Controvehsial Divine. 
 
 HE is Truth's champion to defend her against all adver- 
 saries, atheists, heretics, schismatics, and erroneous 
 persons whatsoever. His sufficiency appears in opposing, 
 answering, moderating, and writing. 
 
 1. He engageth both his judgment and affections in oppo- 
 sing of falsehood. Not like country fencers, who play only 
 to make sport, but like duellers indeed, as if for life and limb ; 
 chiefly if the question be of large prospect, and great con- 
 cernings, he is zealous in the quarrel. Yet some, though 
 their judgment weigh down on one side, the beam of their 
 affections stand so even, they care not which part prevails. 
 
 2. In opposing a truth, he dissembles himself her foe, to be 
 her better friend. Wherefore he counts himself the greatest 
 conqueror when truth hath taken him captive. With Joseph, 
 having sufficiently sifted the matter in a disguise, he disco- 
 vereth himself, I am Joseph your brother,* and then throws 
 away his vizard. Dishonest they, who though the debt be 
 satisfied will never give up the bond, but continue wrangling, 
 when the objection is answered. 
 
 3. He abstains from all foul and railing language. What ! 
 
 * Gen. xlv. 4. 
 
48 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 make the muses, yea tlie graces, scolds! Such purulent 
 spittle argues exulcerated lungs. ^Vhy should there be so 
 much railing about the body of Christ, when there was none 
 about the body of Moses in the act kept betwixt the devil 
 and jNIichael the archangel? 
 
 4. He tj/rannizet/i not over a weak and undcrmatchcd adver- 
 sarify but seeks i-atlier to cover his weakness, if he be a modest 
 man. When a professor pressed an answerer (a better 
 Christian than a clerk) with a hard argument ; Reverend 
 Proftssor (said he) ingenue eonjifeor me non posse respondere 
 hide argumento. To whom the professor, Recte respondes. 
 
 5. In answering, he states the question and expounds the 
 tenns thereof. Otherwise, the disputants shall end where 
 tliey ought to have begun, in differences about words, and 
 be barbarians each to other, speaking in a language neither 
 understand. If the question also be of historical cognizance, 
 he shews the pedigree thereof ; who first brewed it, who first 
 broached it, and sends the wandering error with a passport 
 home to tlie place of its birth. 
 
 6. In taking away an objection he not only puts by the thrust, 
 but breaks the weapon. Some rather escape than defeat an 
 argument ; and though by such an evasion they may shut the 
 mouth of the opponent, yet may they open the difficulty 
 wider in the hearts of the hearers. But our answerer either 
 fairly resolves the doubt, or else shews the falseness of the 
 argimient, by beggaring the opponent to maintain such a 
 fruitful generation of absurdities as his ai-gument hatli be- 
 gotten : or lastly, returns and retorts it back upon him again. 
 The first way unties the knot ; the second cuts it asunder ; 
 the third whips the opponent with the knot himself tied. 
 Sure it is more honour to be a clear answerer than a cun- 
 ning opposer, because the latter takes advantage of man's 
 ignorance, which is ten times more than his knowledge. 
 
 7. What his answers want iyi suddetiness they have in soli- 
 dity. Indeed the speedy answer adds lustre to tlie disputa- 
 tion, and honour to the disputant ; yet he makes good pay- 
 ment who, though he cannot presently throw the money out 
 of his pocket, yet will pay it, if but going home to unlock 
 his chest. Some that are not for speedy may be for sounder 
 performance. When Melancthon, at tlie disputation of Ra- 
 tisbon, was pressed with a shrewd argument by Ecchius, " I 
 
CONTROVERSIAL DIVINE. 49 
 will answer tbee," said he, " to-morrow." " Nay," said 
 Ecchius, ^' do it now, or it's nothing worth." " Yea," said 
 Melancthon, " I seek the truth, and not mine own credit, 
 and therefore it will be as good if I answer thee to-morrow 
 by God's assistance." * 
 
 8. In moderating, he sides with the answerer, if the an- 
 swerer sides with the truth. But if he be conceited, and 
 opinioned of his own sufficiency, he lets him swoon before 
 he gives him any hot water. If a paradox-monger, loving to 
 hold strange, yea, dangerous opinions, he counts it charity 
 to suffer such a one to be beaten without mercy, that he 
 may be weaned from his wilfulness. For the main, he is 
 so a staff to the answerer, that he makes him stand on his 
 own legs. 
 
 9. In writing, his Latin is pure, so far as the subject wilt 
 allow. For those who are to climb the Alps are not to 
 expect a smooth and even way. True it is that schoolmen, 
 perceiving that fallacy had too much covert under the nap of 
 flourishing language, used threadbare Latin on purpose, and 
 cared not to trespass on grammar, and tread down the fences 
 thereof, to avoid the circuit of words, and to go the nearest 
 way to express their conceits. But our divine, though he 
 useth barbarous school-terms, which like standers are fixed to 
 the controversy, yet in his moveable Latin, passages and 
 digressions, his style is pure and elegant. 
 
 10. He affects clearness ajid plainness in all his writings. 
 Some men's heads are like the world before God said unto 
 it, Fiat lux. These dark lanterns may shine to themselves, 
 and understand their own conceits, but nobody else can 
 have light from them. Thus Matthias Farinator, professor 
 at Vienna, assisted with some other learned men, as the 
 times then went, was thirty years making a book of applying 
 Plato's, Aristotle's, and Galen's rules in philosophy, to Christ 
 and his prophets, f and it is called Lumen anima ; quo tamen 
 nihil est caliginosius, lahore magno, scd ridiculo, et inani. 
 But this obscurity is worst when affected ; when they do as 
 Perseus, of whom onesaith,| Legi voluit qua scripsit, in- 
 
 * Melchior Adam, in Vitis Germ. Theolog. p. 339. 
 t Mercator Atlas, in the Descript. of Austria. 
 t Scalig. de Arte Poet. lib. 6. c. 6. 
 
 E 
 
50 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 telligi noluit qua legerentur. Some affect this darkness, 
 that they may be accounted profound, whereas one is not 
 bound to believe that all the water is deep that is muddv. 
 
 11. He U not curious in searching matters of no moment. 
 Captain Manin Forbisher fetched from the farthest north- 
 em countries a ship's lading of mineral stones, as he thought, 
 which alierwards were cast out to mend the highways.* 
 Thus are they sen ed, and miss their hopes, who long seek- 
 ing to extract hidden mysteries out of nice questions, leave 
 them off, as useless at last. Antoninus Pius, for his desire 
 to search to the least differences, was called Ciiniini sector, 
 the carver of cummin seed. One need not be so accurate : 
 for as soon shall one scour the spots out of the moon, as all 
 ignorance out of man. When Eunomius the heretic vaunted 
 that he knew God and his divinity, St. Basil f CTavels him 
 in twenty-one questions about the body of an ant or pis- 
 mire : so dark is man's understanding. I wonder therefore 
 at tlie boldness of some who, as if tliey were lord marshals 
 of tiie ansrels, place them in ranks and tiles. Let us not be- 
 lieve them here, but rather go to heaven to confute them. 
 
 12. He neither multiplies needlesSy nor compounds neces- 
 sary controversies. Sure they light on a labour in vain, who 
 seek to make a bridge of reconciliation over the fiiya xd<Tfia 
 betwixt papists and prc-testants ; for though we go ninety- 
 nine steps, they (1 mean their church) will not come one to 
 give us a meeting. And as for the offers of Clara's and 
 private men, besides that they seem to be more of the nature 
 of baits than gifts, they may make large proffers, without any 
 commission to treat, and so the Romish church is not bound 
 to pay their promises. Jn ^Merionethshire in Wales there 
 are high mountains, whose hanging tops come so close to- 
 gether that shepherds on the tops of several hills may audi- 
 bly talk together, yet will it be a day's journey for their bodies 
 to meet, so vast is the hoUowness of the valleys betwixt 
 them.* Thus upon sound search shall we find a grand dis- 
 tance and remoteness betwixt popish and protestant tenets 
 to reconcile them, which at the first view may seem near, 
 and tending to an accommodation. 
 
 * Car^bdea"? Elizib. anno 1576. 
 t Epist. 168. quae est ad Eunomium. 
 J Giraldus Camb. in Descr. of Wales. 
 
CONTROVERSIAL DIVINE. 51 
 
 13. He is resolute and stable in fundamental points of re- 
 ligion. These are his fixed poles and axletree about which 
 he moves, whilst they stand unmoveable. Some sail so long 
 on the sea of controversies, tossed up and down, to and fro, 
 pi'o and con, that the very ground to them seems to move, 
 and their judgments grow sceptical and unstable in the most 
 setded points of divinity. When he cometh to preach, espe- 
 cially if to a plain auditory, with the Paracelsians he extracts 
 an oil out of the driest and hardest bodies, and, knowing that 
 knotty timber is unfit to build with, he edifies people with 
 easy and profitable matter. 
 
 ILLIAM Whitaker, born at Holm in the county of 
 
 ▼ ' Lancaster, of good parentage, especially by his mo- 
 ther's side, was allied to two worshipful families. His reve- 
 rend uncle, Alexander Nowell, Dean of St. Paul's (the first 
 fi-uits of the English confessors in the days of Queen Mary, 
 who after her death first returned into England from beyond 
 the seas), took him young from his parents, sent him first to 
 Paul's school, thence to Trinity College in Cambridge ; where 
 he so profited in his studies that he gave great promises of 
 his future perfection. 
 
 I pass by his youthful exercises, never striving for the 
 garland but he won and wore it away. His prime appear- 
 ing to the world, was when he stood for the professor's place 
 against two competitors, in age far his superiors. But the 
 seven electors in the university who were to choose the 
 emperor of the schools, preferring a golden head before silver 
 hairs, conferred the place on Whitaker ; and the strict form 
 of their election hath no room for corruption. He so well 
 acquitted himself in the place, that he answered expectation, 
 the strongest opponent in all disputes and lectures, and by 
 degrees taught envy to admire him. 
 
 By this time the papists began to assault him and the 
 truth. First, Campian, one fitter for a trumpeter than a 
 soldier, whose best ability was that he could boast in good 
 Latin, being excellent at the flat hand of rhetoric, which rather 
 gives pats than blows, but he could not bend his fist to 
 dispute. W' hitaker, both in writing and disputing, did teach 
 him that it was easier to make than maintain a challenge 
 
 XX. — The Life of Dr. Whitaker. 
 
52 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 against our church ; and in like manner he handled both 
 DuHEus and Sanders, who successively undertook the same 
 cause, solidly confuting their arguments. 
 
 But these teasers, rather to rouse than pinch the game, 
 only made Whitaker find his spirits. The fiercest dog is 
 behind, even Bellarmine himself, a great scholar, and who 
 wanted nothing but a good cause to defend, and generally 
 writing ingeniously, using sometimes slanting, seldom down- 
 right railing. Whitaker gave him all fair quarter, stating 
 the question betwixt them, yielding all which the other in 
 reason could ask, and agTeeing on terms to fall out with him, 
 played fairly but fiercely on him, till the other forsook the 
 field. 
 
 Bellarmine had no mind to reinforce his routed argu- 
 ments, but rather consigned over that service to a new gene- 
 ral, Stapleton an Englishman :* he was bom the same year 
 and month wherein Sir Tliomas ]More was beheaded ; an 
 obsei\ ation little less than mystical with the papists, as if 
 God had substituted him to grow up in the room of the 
 other for tlie support of the catholic cause. If Whitaker, in 
 answering him, put more gall than usual into his ink, Sta- 
 pleton (whose mouth was as foul as his cause) first infected 
 him with bitterness : and none will blame a man for arming 
 his hands with hard and rough gloves, w ho is to meddle with 
 briers and brambles. 
 
 Thus they bailed him constantly with fresh dogs : none 
 that ran at him once desired a second course at him ; and 
 as one observes, t Ctwi nulla hoste iinquam conjiixit, quern 
 non fudit et fuguvit. 
 
 He filled the chair witli a graceful presence, so that one 
 needed not to do with him as Luther did with Melanc- 
 thon when he first heard him read, abstract the opinion and 
 sight of his stature and person, lest the meanness thereof 
 should cause an undervaluing of him :% ^or our ^^'hitaker's 
 person carried with it an excellent port. His style was 
 manly for the strength, maidenly for the modesty, and elegant 
 for the phrase thereof ; shewing his skill in spinning a fine 
 
 * Pitzeus. De lllust. Angl. Scrip, cetat. 16. p. 796. 
 t Davenant. in Pr^et'at. De Judice et !Norma Fidei, 
 X In Epist. ad Spalatinum. 
 
LIFE OF DR. WHITAKER. 53 
 thread out of coarse wool, for such is controversial matter. 
 He had by his second wife, a modest woman, eight children. 
 It being true of him also, what is said of the famous lawyer 
 Andreas Tiraquillus, * Singulis annis singulos libros et liberos 
 reipublica: dedit. 
 
 My father hath told me that he often wished that he might 
 lose so much learning as he had gotten in after-supper stu- 
 dies, on condition he might gain so much strength as he 
 had lost thereby. Indeed his body was strongly built for 
 the natural temper, and well repaired by his temperate diet 
 and recreations ; but first he foundered the foundation of this 
 house by immoderate study, and at last the roof was set on 
 fire by a hot disease. 
 
 The unhappy controversy was then started, whether justi- 
 fying faith may be lost. And this thorny question would 
 not suffer our nightingale to sleep. He was sent for up by 
 Archbishop Whitgift to the conference at Lambeth, after 
 which returning home, unseasonable riding, late studying, and 
 night-watching brought him to a burning fever, to which his 
 body was naturally disposed, as appeared by the mastery of 
 redness in his complexion. Thus lost he the health of his 
 body in maintaining that the health of the soul could not 
 be lost. All agreed that he should be let blood; whicli 
 might then easily have been done, but was deferred by the 
 fault of some about him, till it was too late. Thus, when 
 God intends to cut a man's life off, his dearest friends by 
 dangerous involuntary mistakes shall bring the knife. He 
 died in the 47th year of his age, Anno Dom. 1595, and in 
 St. John's College, whereof he was master, was solemnly 
 interred, with the grief of the university, and whole churcli 
 of God. 
 
 XXI. — The true Church Antiquary. 
 
 HE is a traveller into former times, whence he hath learnt 
 their language and fashions. If he meets with an old 
 manuscript, which hath the mark worn out of its mouth, and 
 hath lost the date, yet he can tell the age thereof either by 
 the phrase or character. 
 
 * Thuanus, obit. Doct. Vir, anno 1558. 
 
54 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 1. He baits at middle antiquity/, but lodges not till he comes 
 at that which is ancient indeed. Some scour off the rust of 
 old inscriptions into their own souls, cankering themselves 
 with superstition, having read so often Orate pro anima, that 
 at last they fall a praying for the departed ; and they more 
 lament the ruin of monasteries, than the decay and ruin of 
 monks' lives, degenerating from their ancient piety and pain- 
 fulness. Indeed a little skill in antiquity inclines a man to 
 popery ; but depth in that study brings him about again to 
 our religion. A nobleman who had heard of the extreme 
 age of one dwelling not far off, made a journey to visit him, 
 and finding an aged person sitting in the chimney corner, 
 addressed himself unto him with admiration of his j^e, till 
 his mistake was rectified : for Oh, Sir, said the young old 
 man, I am not he whom you seek for, but his son ; my father 
 is farther off in the field. The same error is daily commit- 
 ted by the Romish church, adorning the reverend brow and 
 gray hairs of some ancient ceremonies, perchance but of some 
 seven or eight hundred years standing in the church, and 
 mistake these for their fathers, of far greater age in the pri- 
 mitive times. 
 
 2. He desires to imitate the ancient fathers, as well in their 
 piety as in their postures. Not only conforming his hands 
 and knees, but chiefly his heart to their pattern. Oh the 
 holiness of their living and painfulness of their preaching ! 
 How full were they of mortified thoughts and heavenly me- 
 ditations ! Let us not make the ceremonial part of their 
 lives only canonical, and the moral part thereof altogether 
 apocryphal ; imitating their devotion not in the fineness of the 
 stuff, but only in the fashion of the making. 
 
 3. He carefully marks the declination of the church from 
 the primitive purity. Observing how sometimes humble 
 devotion was contented to lie down, whilst proud superstition 
 got on her back. Yea, not only Frederick the emperor, but 
 many a godly father some hundreds of years before, held the 
 pope's stirrup, and by their well-meaning simplicity gave 
 occasion to his future greatness. He takes notice how their 
 rhetorical hyperboles were afterwards accounted the just 
 measure of dogmatical truths : how plain people took them 
 at their word in their funeral apostrophes to the dead ; how 
 praying for the departed brought the fuel, under which after 
 
TRUE CHURCH ANTIQUARY. 55 
 ages kindled the fire of purgatory ; how one ceremony begat 
 another, there being no bounds in will-worship, wherewith 
 one may sooner be wearied than satisfied ; the inventors of 
 new ceremonies endeavouring to supply in number what 
 their conceits want in solidity ; how men's souls being in 
 the full speed and career of the historical use of pictures, 
 could not stop short, but must lash out into superstitions ; 
 how the fathers, veiling their bonnets to Rome in civil cour- 
 tesy, when making honourable mention thereof, are interpreted 
 by modem papists to have done it in adoration of the idol of 
 the pope's infallibility. All these things he ponders in his 
 heart, observing both the times and places when and where 
 they happened. 
 
 4. He is not zealous Jor the introducing of old useless ce- 
 remonies. The mischief is, some that are most violent to 
 bring such in, are most negligent to preach the cautions in 
 using them ; and simple people, like children in eating of 
 fish, swallow bones and all to their danger of choking. Be- 
 sides, what is observed of horsehairs, that lying nine days in 
 water they turn to snakes ; so some ceremonies, though dead 
 at first, in continuance of time quicken, get stings, and may 
 do much mischief, especially if in such an age wherein the 
 meddling of some have justly awaked the jealousy of all. 
 When many popish tricks are abroad in the country, if then 
 men meet with a ceremony which is a stranger, especially if 
 it can give but a bad account of itself, no wonder if the watch 
 take it up for one on suspicion. 
 
 5. He is not peremptory hut conjectural in doubtful mat- 
 ters. Not forcing others to his own opinion, but leaving 
 them to their own liberty; not filling up all with his own 
 conjectures, to leave no room for other men : nor tramples he 
 on their credits, if in them he finds slips and mistakes. For 
 here our souls have but one eye (the apostle saith, we knoiv 
 in part), be not proud if that chance to come athwart thy 
 seeing side, which meets with the blind side of another. 
 
 6. He thankfully acknowledgeth those by whom he hath 
 profited. Base natured they, who when they have quenched 
 their own thirst, stop up, at least muddy, the fountain. But 
 our antiquar)^, if he be not the first founder of a commendable 
 conceit, contents himself to be a benefactor to it in clearing 
 and adorning it. 
 
56 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 7. He affects not fatiaful singul4witv in his behaviour: 
 Nor cares to have a proper mark in writing of words, to 
 di:^\iise some peculiar letter from the ordinarj' character. 
 Others, for fear traTellers should u\ke no notice that skill in 
 antiquit)- dwells in such a head, hang out an antique hat for 
 the sign, or use some obsolete garb in their garments, gestures, 
 or discourse. 
 
 8. He doth not so adore the ancients as to despise the 
 moderns. Grant tliera but dwarfs, yet stand thev on giants' 
 shoulders, and may see the further. Sure, as stout cham- 
 pions of trudi follow ii> tlie rear, as ever marched in the front. 
 Besides, as one e-\eellently observes, Antiguitas secidi ju- 
 ventus mundi* These limes are Uie ancient times, when the 
 world is ancient ; and not those which we count ancient, 
 ordine retrogrado, by a computation backwards from our- 
 selves. 
 
 XXII. — The General Artist. 
 
 IKXr^W rlie general cavil against general learning is this, 
 ^ in omnibus est tiullus in singulis : He that 
 Sips ^ : : y ;,rts, drinks of none. However, we must know 
 that all learning, which is but one grand science, hath so 
 homogeneal a body, that the parts tliereof do with a mutual 
 service relate to. and communicate strength and lustre each 
 to other. Our artist, knowing language to be tlie key of 
 learning, thus begins. 
 
 1 . His tongue being but one by nature, he gets cloven by 
 art and industry. Before the confrision of Babel, all the 
 world was one continent in language: since divided into 
 several tongues, as several islands. Grammar is the sliip, by 
 benefit whereof we pass from one to another, in the learned 
 languages generally spoken in no country. His mother- 
 tongue was like the dull music of a monochord, which by 
 study he turns into the harmony of several instruments. 
 
 2. He Jirst gaineth skill in the Latin and Greek tongues. 
 On the credit of the former alone, he may trade in discourse 
 over all Christendom : but the Greek, though not so gene- 
 
 Sir Francis Bacon *s Advaucement of Learning, p. 46. 
 
THE GENERAL ARTIST. 57 
 rally spoken, is known with no less profit, and more pleasure. 
 The joints of her compounded words are so naturally oiled, 
 that they run nimbly on the tongue; which makes them, 
 though long, never tedious, because significant. Besides, it 
 is full and stately in sound : only it pities our artist to see 
 the vowels therein racked in pronouncing them, hanging 
 oftentimes one way by their native force, and haled another 
 by their accents which countermand them. 
 
 3. Hence he proceeds to the Hebrew, the mother-tongue of 
 the world. More pains than quickness of wit is required to 
 get it, and with daily exercise he continues it. Apostacy 
 herein is usual to fall totally from the language by a little 
 neglect. As for the Arabic and other oriental languages, 
 he rather makes sallies and incursions into them, than any 
 solemn sitting before them. 
 
 4. Then he applies his study to logic and ethics. The 
 latter makes a man's soul mannerly and wise ; but as for 
 logic, that is the armoury of reason, furnished with all offen- 
 sive and defensive weapons. There are syllogisms, long 
 swords ; enthymemes, short daggers ; dilemmas, two-edged 
 swords that cut on both sides ; sorites, chain-shot : and for 
 the defensive, distinctions, which are shields ; retortions, 
 which are targets with a pike in the midst of them, both to 
 defend and oppose. From hence he raiseth his studies to 
 the knowledge of physics, the great hall of nature, and me- 
 taphysics, the closet thereof; and is careful not to wade 
 therein so far, till by subtle distinguishing of notions he con- 
 founds himself. 
 
 5. He is skilful in rhetoric, which gives a speech colour, as 
 logic doth favour, and both together beauty. Though some 
 condemn rhetoric as the mother of lies, speaking more than 
 the truth in hyperboles, less in her miosis, otherwise in her 
 metaphors, contrary in her ironies ; yet is there excellent use 
 of all these, when disposed of with judgment. Nor is he a 
 stranger to poetry, which is music in words ; nor to music, 
 which is poetry in sound : both excellent sauce, but they 
 have lived and died poor that made them their meat. 
 
 6. Mathematics he moderately studieth to his great content- 
 ment. Using it as ballast for his soul, yet to fix it, not to stall 
 it ; nor suffers he it to be so unmannerly as to jostle out other 
 arts. As for judicial astrology, which hath the least judg- 
 
58 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 nient in it, this vagrant hath been whipped out of all learned 
 
 corporations. If our artist lodgeth her in the out-rooms of 
 
 his soul for a night or two, it is rather to hear than believe her 
 
 relations. 
 
 7. Hence he makes his progress iiito the studi/ of history. 
 Nestor, who lived three ages, ^A■as accounted the wisest man 
 in the world. But the historian may make himself wise, by 
 living as many ages as have passed since the beginning of the 
 world. His books enable him to maintain discourse, who 
 besides the stock of his own experience may spend on tlie 
 common purse of his reading. Tliis directs him in his life, so 
 that he makes the shipwrecks of others sea-marks to himself ; 
 yea accidents which others start from for their strangeness, he 
 welcomes as his wonted acquaintance, having found precedents 
 for them formerly. Without histor}- a man's soul is purblind, 
 seeing only the things which almost touch his eyes. 
 
 8. He is well seen in chronology, icithout irhich history is 
 but a heap o f tales. If by the laws of the land he is counted 
 a natural, who hath not wit enough to tell twenty, or to tell 
 his age;* he shall not pass with me for wise in learning, 
 who cannot tell the age of the world, and count hundreds of 
 years : I mean not so critically as to solve all doubts arising 
 thence ; but that he may be able to give some tolerable 
 account thereof. He is also acquainted widi cosmography, 
 treating of the world in whole joints ; with chorography, 
 shredding it into countries; and with topography, mincing 
 it into particular places. 
 
 Thus taking these sciences in their general latitude, he 
 hath tinished the round circle or golden ring of tlie arts ; only 
 he keeps a place for the diamond to be set in, I mean for 
 that predominant profession of law, physic, divinity, or 
 state-policy, Avhich he intends for his principal calling here- 
 after. 
 
 XXIII. — The Life of Julius Scaliger. 
 
 I KNOW my choice herein is liable to much exception. 
 Some will make me the pattern of ignorance, for making 
 this Scaliger the pattern of the general artist, whose own son 
 
 * Fits Herbert, de Nat. Brev. de Idiota inquiren. 
 
LIFE OF SCALIGEli. 59 
 Joseph might have been his father in many arts. But all 
 things considered, the choice will appear well advised, even 
 in such variety of examples. Yet let him know that under- 
 takes to pick out the best ear amongst an acre of wheat, that 
 he shall leave as good if not a better behind him, than that 
 which he chooseth. 
 
 He was born anno 1484, in Italy, at the Castle of Ripa 
 upon Lacus Benacus, now called Lago di Garda, of the illus- 
 trious and noble family of the Scaligers, princes, for many 
 hundreds of years, of Verona, till at last the Venetians ousted 
 them of their ancient inheritance. Being about eleven years 
 old, he was brought to the court of Maximilian, emperor of 
 Germany, where for seventeen years together he was taught 
 learning and military discipline. I pass by his valiant per- 
 formances achieved by him, save that this one action of his 
 is so great and strong, it cannot be kept in silence, but will 
 be recorded. 
 
 In the cruel battle at Ravenna, betwixt the emperor and 
 the French, he not only bravely fetched off the dead bodies 
 of Benedictus and Titus, his father and brother, but also 
 with his own hands rescued the eagle (the standard imperial) 
 which was taken by the enemies. For which his prowess 
 Maximiliaij knighted him, and with his own hands put on 
 him the g^den spurs and chain, the badges of knighthood. 
 
 Amidst these his martial employments he made many a 
 clandestine match with the muses, and whilst he expected 
 the tides and returns of business, he filled up the empty 
 places of leisure with his studies. Well did the poets feign 
 Pallas patroness of arts and arms, there being ever good in- 
 telligence betwixt the two professions, and as it were but a 
 narrow cut to ferry over out of one into the other. At last 
 Scaliger sounded a retreat to himself from the wars, and 
 wholly applied himself to his book, especially after his wan- 
 dering life was fixed by marriage unto the beautiful Andietta 
 Lobeiaca, with whom he lived at Agin, near Montpelier in 
 France. 
 
 His Latin was twice refined, and most critical, as appears 
 by his own writings, and notes on other authors. He was an 
 accurate Grecian, yet began to study it when well nigh forty 
 years old, when a man's tongue is too stiff to bow to words. 
 What a torture was it to him who flowed with streams of 
 
60 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 matter, then to learn words, yea letters, drop by drop ? But 
 nothing was unconquerable to his pains, who had a golden 
 wit in an iron body. Let his Book of Subtilties witness his 
 profound skill in logic and natural philosophy. 
 
 His skill in physic was as great as his practice therein 
 was happy; insomuch that he did many strange and admi- 
 rable cures. Hear how a noble and learned pen doth com- 
 mend him : — 
 
 Xon hunc fefellit vUa vis recond'ita 
 Salubris herbic, saltihus si quam aviis 
 Celat nivosus Caucasus, seu quam procul 
 Riphaa dure contigit ?^upes gelu. 
 Hie jamque spectanfes ad orcum non semel 
 Animas repressit victo?-, et memhr^is suis 
 Htrrere succis compulii felicibus, 
 Nigrique avaras ditis elusit hhihus.* 
 
 On snowy Caucasus there grew no root 
 Of secret power, but he was privy to't ; 
 On cold Riphean hills no simple grew, 
 But he the force thereof and virtue knew : 
 Wherewith, applied by his successful art. 
 Such sullen souls as would this world depark 
 He forced still in tlieir bodies to remain, 
 And from death's door fetch'd othei^s back again. 
 
 As for his skill in physiognomy, it was wonderful. I 
 know some will say, that cannot be read in men's faces which 
 was never wrote tliere, and that he that seeks to find the dis- 
 position of men's souls in the figures of their bodies, looks 
 for letters on the back side of the book. Yet it is credibly 
 averred that he never looked on his infant son Audectus but 
 with grief, as sorrow-struck w-ith some sad sign of ill success 
 he saw in his face : f which child at last was found stifled in 
 bed with the embraces of his nurse being fast asleep. 
 
 In mathematics he was no Archimedes, though he shewed 
 his skill therein with the best advantage, and stood therein 
 on his tiptoes, that his learning might seem the taller. 
 
 * Stephanus, Boetius Regius Senator BurdigaljE ad Vidum 
 Brassacum Piaesidera. t In Vita Jul. Scalig. p. 54. 
 
LIFE OF SCALIGER. 61 
 But in poetry his over measure of skill might make up 
 tliis defect, as is attested by his book De Arte Poetica. Yet 
 his own poems are harsh and unsmooth, as if he rather snorted 
 than slept on Parnassus, and they sound better to the brain 
 than ear. Indeed his censure in poetry was incomparable ; 
 but he was more happy in repairing of poems than in building 
 them from the ground, which speaks his judgment to be 
 better than his invention. 
 
 What shall I speak of his skill in history, whose own ac- 
 tions were a sufficient history ? He was excellently versed in 
 the passages of the world, both modern and ancient. Many 
 modem languages, which departed from Babel in a confu- 
 sion, met in his mouth in a method, being skilful in the 
 Sclavonic tongue, the Hungarian, Dutch, Italian, Spanish, 
 and French. 
 
 But these his excellent parts were attended with prodigious 
 pride ; and he had much of the humour of the Ottomans in 
 him, to kill all his brethren, and cry down all his equals, 
 who were co-rivals with him in the honour of arts, which 
 was his principal quarrel with Cardan. Great was his spite 
 at Erasmus, the moming-star of learning, and one by whom 
 Julius himself had profited, though afterwards he sought to 
 put out that candle whereat he had lighted his own. In the 
 bickering betwixt them, Erasmus plucked Scaliger by the 
 long locks of his immoderate boasting, and touched him to 
 the quick (a proud man lies pat for a jeering man's hand to 
 hit) ; yea, Erasmus was a badger in his jeers, where he did 
 bite he would make his teeth meet. Nor came Scaliger be- 
 hind him in railing. However, afterwards Scaliger repented 
 of his bitterness, and before his death was reconciled unto 
 him.* 
 
 Thus his learning, being in the circuit of arts, spread so 
 wide, no wonder if it lay thin in some places. His parts 
 were nimble, that starting so late he overtook, yea, overran 
 his equals : so that we may safely conclude that, making 
 abatement for his military avocations and late applying him- 
 self to study, scarce any one is to be preferred before him for 
 generality of human learning. He died anno 1558, in the 
 seventy-fifth year of his age. 
 
 * Thuan. obit. Illustr. anno 1558. 
 
62 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 XXIV. — The Faithful Minister. 
 
 T^TT'E suppose him not brought up by hand only in his 
 ^ ' own country studies, but that he hath sucked of his 
 mother university, and thoroughly learnt the arts: not as 
 St. Rumball,* who is said to have spoken as soon as he was 
 born, doth he preach as soon as he is matriculated. Con- 
 ceive him now a graduate in arts, and entered into orders, 
 according to the solemn form of the Church of England, and 
 presented by some patron to a pastoral charge, or place 
 equivalent, and then let us see how well he dischargeth his 
 office. 
 
 1 . He endeavours to get the general love and good will of 
 his parish. This he doth not so much to make a benefit of 
 them, as a benefit for tliem, that his ministry may be more 
 effectual; otherwise he may preach his own heart out, before 
 he preacheth anything into theirs. Tlie good conceit of the 
 physician is half a cure, and his practice will scarce be happy 
 where his person is hated ; yet he humours them not in his 
 doctrine to get their love : for such a spaniel is worse than a 
 dumb dog. He shall sooner get their good will by walking 
 uprightly, than by crouching and creeping. If pious living 
 and painful labouring in his calling will not win their aifec- 
 tions, he counts it gain to lose them. As for those who 
 causelessly hate him, he pities and prays for them : and such 
 there will be. I sliould suspect his preaching had no salt in 
 it, if no galled horse did wince. 
 
 2. He is strict in ordering his conversation. As for those 
 who cleanse blurs with blotted fingers, they make it the 
 worse. It was said of one who preached very well, and lived 
 very ill. That when he was out of the pulpit, it teas pity he 
 should ever go into it, and when he was in the pulpit, it icas 
 pity he should ever come out of it : but our minister lives 
 sermons. And yet I deny not but dissolute men, like un- 
 skilful horsemen who open a gate on the wrong side, may 
 by the virtue of their otfice open heaven for others, and shut 
 themselves out. 
 
 3. His behaviour towards his people is grave and cowteous. 
 
 * Camb. Brit, in Northamptonshire. 
 
FAITHFUL MINISTER. 63 
 Not too austere and retired ; which is laid to the charge of 
 good Mr. Hooper the martyr,* that his rigidness frightened 
 people from consulting with him. Let yow light, saith 
 Christ, before men; whereas over-reservedness makes 
 the brightest virtue burn dim. Especially he detesteth af- 
 fected gravity, which is rather on men than in them, whereby 
 some belie their register-book, antedate their age to seem far 
 older than they are, and plait and set their brows in an af- 
 fected sadness. Whereas St. Anthony the monk might have 
 been known among hundreds of his order by his cheerful 
 face, he having ever, though a most mortified man, a merry 
 countenance. t 
 
 4. He doth, not clash God's ordinances together about pre- 
 cedency. Not making odious comparisons betwixt prayer 
 and preaching, preaching and catechising, public prayer and 
 private, premeditate prayer and extempore. When at the 
 taking of New Carthage in Spain, two soldiers contended 
 about the mural crown, due to him who first climbed the 
 walls, so that the whole army was thereupon in danger of 
 division,! Scipio the general said, he knew that they both 
 got up the wall together, and so gave the scaling crown to 
 them both. Thus our minister compounds all controversies 
 betwixt God's ordinances, by praising them all, practising 
 them all, and thanking God for them all. He counts the 
 reading of common prayers to prepare him the better for 
 preaching; and as one said, if he did first toll the bell on 
 one side, it made it afterwards ring out the better in his ser- 
 mons. 
 
 5. He carefully catechiseth his people in the elements of 
 religion. Except he hath (a rare thing) a flock without 
 lambs, of all old sheep ; and yet even Luther did not scorn 
 to profess himself discipulum catechismi, a scholar of the 
 catecliism. By this catechising, the gospel first got ground 
 of popery ; and let not our religion, now grown rich, be 
 ashamed of that which first gave it credit and set it up, lest 
 the Jesuits beat us at our own weapon. Through the want 
 of this catechising, many who are well skilled in some dark 
 
 * Fox, Acts and Mon. in his Life. 
 
 + Atlianasius, ia ejus Vita. 
 
 ; Plutarch, in Scipio's Life, p. 1807. 
 
64 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 out-corners of divinity have lost themselves in the beaten road 
 
 thereof. 
 
 6. He will not offer to God of that which costs him 
 nothing ; but takes pains aforehand for his sermons. De- 
 mosthenes never made any oration on the sudden;* yea, 
 being called upon he never rose up to speak, except he had 
 well studied the matter : and he was wont to say, That he 
 shewed how he honoured and reverenced the people of Athens, 
 because he was careful what he spake unto them. Indeed if 
 our minister be surprised with a sudden occasion, he counts 
 himself rather to be excused than commended, if, premedi- 
 tating only the bones of his sermon, he clothes it with flesh 
 extempore. As for those whose long custom hath made 
 preaching their nature, that they can discourse sermons with- 
 out study, he accounts their examples rather to be admired 
 than imitated. 
 
 7. Having brought his sermon into his head, he labours to 
 bring it into his heart, before he preaches it to his people. 
 Surely tliat preaching which comes from the soul most works 
 on the soul. Some have questioned ventriloquy, when men 
 strangely speak out of their bellies, whether it can be done 
 lawfully or no : might I coin the word cordiloqui/, when men 
 draw the doctrines out of their hearts, sure all would count 
 this lawful and commendable. 
 
 8. He chief y reproves the reigning sins of the time and 
 place he lives in. We may observe that our Saviour never 
 inveighed against idolatry, usuiy, sabbath-breaking amongst 
 the Jews ; not that these were not sins, but they were not 
 practised so much in that age, wherein wickedness was spun 
 with a finer thread : and therefore, Christ principally bent 
 the drift of his preaching against spiritual pride, hypocrisy, 
 and traditions then predominant amongst the people. Also 
 our minister confuteth no old heresies which time hath con- 
 futed; nor troubles his auditory with such strange hideous 
 cases of conscience, that it is more hard to find the case than 
 the resolution. In public reproving of sin, he ever whips 
 the vice and spares the person. 
 
 9. He doth not only move the bread of life, and toss it up 
 and down in generalities, but also breaks it into particular 
 
 * Plutarch, in the Life of Demosthenes. 
 
FAITHFUL MINISTER. 65 
 directions: drawing it down to cases of conscience, that a 
 man may be warranted in his particular actions, whether 
 they be lawful or not. And he teacheth people their lawful 
 liberty as well as their restraints and prohibitions ; for amongst 
 men it is as ill taken to turn back favours, as to disobey com- 
 mands. 
 
 10. The places of Scripture he quotes are pregnant and 
 pertinent. As for heaping up of many quotations, it smacks 
 of a vain ostentation of memory. Besides, it is as impossible 
 that the hearer should profitably retain them all, as that the 
 preacher hath seriously perused them all ; yea, whilst the 
 auditors stop their attention, and stoop down to gather an 
 impertinent quotation, the sermon runs on, and they lose 
 more substantial matter. 
 
 1 1 . His similes and illustrations are always familiar^ never 
 contemptible. Indeed, reasons are the pillars of the fabric of 
 a sermon, but similitudes are the windows which give the 
 best lights. He avoids such stories whose mention may 
 suggest bad thoughts to the auditors, and will not use a hght 
 comparison to make thereof a grave application, for fear lest 
 his poison go farther than his antidote. 
 
 12. He provideth not only wholesome but plentiful food 
 for his people. Almost incredible was the painfulness of 
 Baronius, the compiler of the voluminous Annals of the 
 Church, who for thirty years together preached three or foui- 
 times a-week to the people.* As for our minister, he pre- 
 ferreth rather to entertain his people with wholesome cold 
 meat which was on the table before, than with that which is 
 hot from the spit, raw and half roasted. Yet in repetition 
 of the same sermon, every edition hath a new addition, if not 
 of new matter, of new affections. Of whom, saith St. Paul, 
 we have told you often, and now we tell you weeping. 
 
 13. He makes not that wearisome, ivhich should ever be 
 welcome. Wherefore his sermons are of an ordinary length 
 except on an exti-aordinary occasion. What a gift had John 
 
 * The words being somewhat ambiguous, are these : " In au- 
 diendis confessionibus, et sermonibus ad populum ter in heb- 
 domada qualerve habendis per triginta et amplius annos diligen- 
 tissima assiduitate laboravit." — Spondanus, in VitaBaronii, p. 2. 
 part 7. 
 
 F 
 
66 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Halsebach, professor at Vienna, in tediousness, who being 
 to expound the prophet Isaiah to his auditors, read twenty-one 
 years on the first chapter, and yet finished it not* 
 
 14. He coimts the success o f his jnitiistry the greatest pre- 
 ferment. Yet herein God hath humbled many painful 
 pastors, in making them to be clouds to rain not over Arabia 
 the Happy, but over the Stony or desert : so that they may 
 complain with the herdsman in the poet, 
 
 Htu mihij quam pingui macer est mihi taurus in arvo ! 
 
 My starveling bull, 
 Ah woe is me, 
 In pasture full, 
 How lean is he ! 
 
 Yet such pastors may comfort themselves that great is 
 their reward with God in heaven, who measures it not by 
 their success but endeavours. Besides, though they see not, 
 tlieir people may feel benefit by their ministry. Yea, the 
 preaching of the word in some places is like the planting of 
 woods, where, though no profit is received for twenty years 
 together, it comes afterv^-ards. And grant that God honours 
 tliee not to build his temple in thy parish, yet thou mayest 
 with David provide metal and materials for Solomon thy 
 successor to build it with. 
 
 15. To sick folks he comes sometimes before he is sent for, 
 as counting his vocation a sufficient calling. None of his 
 flock shall want the extreme unction of prayer and counsel. 
 Against the communion especially he endeavours that Janus 
 his temple be shut in the whole parish, and diat all be made 
 friends. 
 
 16. He is never plaintiff in any suit but to be right's defen- 
 dant. If his dues be detained from him, he grieves more for 
 his parishioners' bad conscience than his o\^-n damage. He 
 had ratlier sutler ten times in his profit than once in his title, 
 where not only his person, but posterity is wronged : and 
 then he proceeds fairly and speedily to a trial, that he may 
 not vex and wear}- others, but right himself. During his suit 
 he neither breaks off nor slacks offices of courtesy to his ad- 
 versary ; yea, though he loseth his suit, he will not also lose 
 his charity. Chiefly he is respectful to his patron, diat as he 
 
 * Mercator Adas, iu the Descrip. of Austria. 
 
FAITHFUL MINISTER. 67 
 presented him freely to his living, so he constantly presents 
 his patron in his prayers to God. 
 
 17. He is moderate in his tenets and opinions. Not that 
 he gilds over lukewarmness in matters of moment with the 
 title of discretion, but withal he is careful not to entitle vio- 
 lence in indifferent and unconcerning matters to be zeal. 
 Indeed, men of extraordinary tallness, though otherwise little 
 deserving, are made porters to lords, and those of unusual 
 littleness are made ladies' dwarfs, whilst men of modei-ate 
 stature may want masters. Thus many notorious for extre- 
 mities may find favourers to prefer them, whilst moderate 
 men in the middle truth may want any to advance them. 
 But what saith the apostle ? If in this life only we had hope, 
 we are of all men the most miserable. 
 
 18. He is sociable, and willing to do any courtesy for his 
 neighbour ministers. He willingly communicates his know- 
 ledge unto them. Surely the gifts and graces of Christians 
 lay in common, till base envy made the first enclosure. He 
 neither slighteth his inferiors, nor repineth at those who in 
 parts and credit are above him. He loveth the company of 
 his neighbour ministers. Sure as ambergris is nothing so 
 sweet in itself as when it is compounded with other things, 
 so both godly and learned men are gainers by communica- 
 ting themselves to their neighbours. 
 
 19. He is careful in the discreet ordering of his own family. 
 A good minister and a good father may well agree together. 
 When a certain Frenchman came to visit Melancthon,* he 
 found him in his stove with one hand dandling his child in 
 the swaddling-clouts, and in the other hand holding a book 
 and reading it. Our minister also is as hospitable as his 
 estate will permit, and makes every alms two by his cheerful 
 giving it. He loveth also to live in a well-repaired house, 
 that he may serve God therein more cheerfully. A clergy- 
 man who built his house from the ground wrote in it this 
 counsel to his successor, 
 
 If thou dost find an house built to thy mind 
 Without thy cost, 
 
 Serve thou the more God and the poor ; 
 
 My labour is not lost. 
 
 * Pantaleon, de Illustr. Germ, in Vita Melanc. 
 
63 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 20. Lying on his deathbed he bequeaths to each o f his pa- 
 rishioners his precepts and example for a legacy : and ihey in 
 requital erect every one a monument for him in their hearts. 
 He is so far from that base jealousy that his memory should 
 be outshined by a brighter successor, and from that wicked 
 desire that his people may find his worth by the worthlessness 
 of him that succeeds, that he doth heartily pray to God to 
 provide them a better pastor after his decease. As for out- 
 ward estate, he commonly lives in too bare pasture to die fat. 
 It is well if he hatli gathered any flesh, being more in blessing 
 than bulk. 
 
 XXV. — The Life of Mr. Perkins. 
 
 WILLIAM Perkins, born at Marston nigh Coventry' in 
 N\'arwickshire, was afterwards brought up in Christ's 
 College in Cambridge, where he so well profited in his 
 studies that he got the grounds of all liberal arts, and in the 
 24th of Queen Elizabeth wi\s chosen Fellow of that college, 
 the same year wherein Doctor Andrew Willet, one of admi- 
 rable industry, and Doctor Richard Clark, whose learned 
 sermons commend him to posterity, were elected into the 
 same society. 
 
 There goeth an uncontrolled tradition, that Perkins, when 
 a young scholar, was a gTeat studier of magic, occasioned 
 perchance by his skill in mathematics. For ignorant people 
 count all circles above their own sphere to be conjuring, and 
 presently cry out those things are done by black ai't, for 
 which their dim eyes can see no colour in reason. And in 
 such case, when they cannot fly up to heaven to make it a 
 miracle, they fetch it from hell to make it magic, though it 
 may lawfully be done by natural causes. True it is he was 
 very wild in his youth till God, the best chemist, who can 
 fix quicksilver itself, graciously reclaimed him. 
 
 After his entrance into the ministry, the first beam he sent 
 forth shined to those xchich sat in darkness and the shadow 
 of death, I mean the prisoners in the castle of Cambridge ; 
 people, as generally in such places, living in England out 
 of Christendom, wanting the means of their salvation, bound 
 in their bodies, but too loose in their lives, yea, often branded 
 m their flesh, and seared in their consciences. Perkin? pre- 
 
LIFE OF MR. PERKINS. 69 
 vailed so far with their jailor, that the prisoners were brought 
 fettered to the shire-house hard by, where he preached 
 unto them every Lord's day. Thus was the prison his pa- 
 rish, his own charity his patron presenting him unto it, and 
 his work was all his wages. Many an Onesimus here he 
 begat, and, as the instrument, freed the prisoners from the 
 captivity of sin. When this began to be known, some of 
 good quality of the neighbouring parishes became his audi- 
 tors, and counted it their feast to feed out of the prisoners' 
 basket. Hence afterwards he became preacher of St. An- 
 drew's parish in Cambridge, w^here he continued to the day 
 of his death . 
 
 His sermons were not so plain but that the piously learned 
 did admire them, nor so learned but that the plain did un- 
 derstand them. What was said of Socrates, that he first 
 humbled the towering speculations of philosophers into 
 practice and morality ; so our Perkins brought the schools 
 into the pulpit, and, un shelling their controversies out of their 
 hard school terms, made thereof plain and wholesome meat 
 for his people. For he had a capacious head with angles 
 winding and roomy enough to lodge all controversial intri- 
 cacies ; and, had not preaching diverted him from that way, 
 he had no doubt attained to eminency therein. An excellent 
 chirurgeon he was at jointing of a broken soul, and at stating 
 of a doubtful conscience. And sure, in case divinity pro- 
 testants are defective. For, save that a smith or two of late 
 have built them forges, and set up shop, we go down to our 
 enemies to sharpen all our instruments, and are beholden 
 to them for offensive and defensive weapons in cases of 
 conscience. 
 
 He would pronounce the word damn with such an em- 
 phasis as left a doleful echo in his auditors' ears a good 
 while after. And when catechist of Christ College, in ex- 
 poundhig the commandments, applied them so home, able 
 almost to make his hearers' hearts fall down, and hairs to 
 stand upright. But in his older age he altered his voice, and 
 remitted much of his former rigidness, often professing that 
 to preach mercy was the proper office of the ministers of the 
 gospel. 
 
 Some object that his doctrine, referring all to an absolute 
 decree, hamstrings all industry, and cuts off the sinews of 
 
70 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 men's endeavours towards salvation. For, ascribing all to 
 the wind of God's Spirit, which bloweth where it listeth, he 
 leaveth nothing to the oars of man's diligence, either to help 
 or hinder to the attaining of happiness, but rather opens a 
 Nvide door to licentious security. Were this the hardest 
 objection against Perkins his doctrine, his own life was a 
 sufficient answer thereunto, so pious, so spotless, that malice 
 was afraid to bite at his credit, into which she knew her 
 teeth could not enter. 
 
 He had a rare felicity in speedy reading of books, and as 
 it were but turning them over would give an exact account 
 of all considerables therein. So that as it were riding post 
 through an author, he took strict notice of all passages, as 
 if he had dwelt on tliem particularly ; perusing books so 
 speedily, one would think he read nothing ; so accurately, 
 one would tliink he read all. 
 
 He was of a cheerful nature and pleasant disposition : in- 
 deed to mere strangers he was reserved and close, suffering 
 them to knock a good while before he would open himself 
 unto them ; but on tlie least acquaintance he was meny- and 
 xery familiar. 
 
 Besides his assiduity- in preaching, he \\T0te many books, 
 extant at this day. .tVnd pit}- it was, that he set not forth 
 more of them himself; for though some of his orphan works 
 lighted on good guardians, yet all were not so happy; and 
 indeed no nurse for a child to the own mother. 
 
 He died in the fort}--fourth year of his age of a violent fit 
 of the stone. It hath been reported that he died in the con- 
 flict of a troubled conscience ; which admit were so, had been 
 no wonder. For God sometimes seemingly leaves his saints 
 when they leave the world, plunging them on their death- 
 beds in deep temptations, and casting their souls down to 
 hell, to rebound the higher to heaven. Besides, the devil is 
 most busy on the last day of his term ; and a tenant to be 
 ousted cares not what mischief he doth. But here was no 
 such matter. Indeed he always cried out il/ercv, 7nerci/ 
 which some standers-by misinterpreted for despair, as if he 
 felt not God's favour, because he called for it: whereas 
 mercv is a grace which they hold the fastest, that most catch 
 
 * S. W. ut prius. 
 
LIFE OF MR. PERKINS. 71 
 after it. It is true that many on less reason have expressed 
 more confidence of their future happiness, and have dehvered 
 themselves in larger speeches concerning the same. But who 
 could expect a long oration from him, where every word was 
 accented with pain in so sharp a disease? 
 
 His funeral was solemnly and sumptuously performed at 
 the sole charges of Christ College, which challenged, as she 
 gave him his breeding, to pay for his burial ; the university 
 and town lovingly contending which should express more 
 sorrow thereat. Dr. Montague, afterwards bishop of Win- 
 chester, preached his funeral sermon, and excellently dis- 
 charged the place, taking for his text, Moses my servant 
 is dead. 
 
 He was of a ruddy complexion, very fat and corpulent, 
 lame of his right hand ; and yet this Ehud, with a lefthanded 
 pen, did stab the Romish cause, and as one saith, 
 
 Dextera quantumvis fuerat tihi manca, docendi 
 PoUebas mira dexteritate tarnen.* 
 
 Though nature thee of thy right hand bereft, 
 Right well thou writest with thy hand that's left. 
 
 He was born the first, and died the last year of Queen 
 Elizabeth, so that his life streamed in equal length with her 
 reign, and they both had their fountains and falls together. 
 
 I must not forget how his books, after his death, were 
 translated into most modern Christian languages. For though 
 be excellently improved his talent in the English tongue, yet 
 foreigners thought it but wrapped up in a napkin, whilst 
 folded in an unknown language. Wherefore some translated 
 the main body of his works into French, Dutch, and Italian; 
 and his books speak more tongues than the maker ever un- 
 derstood. His Reformed Catholic was done into Spanish, 
 and no Spaniard ever since durst take up that gauntlet of 
 defiance our champion cast down : yea their Inquisition rather 
 chose to answer it with tortures than arguments. 
 
 * Hugh Holland, in his Icones. 
 
72 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 XXVI. — The Good Parishioner. 
 
 WE will only describe his church reference; his civil 
 part hath and shall be met with under other heads. 
 Conceive him to live under such a faithful minister as before 
 was charactered, as, either judging charitably that all pastors 
 are such, or wishing heartily that they were. 
 
 1. Though near to the church he is not far from God. 
 Like unto Justus (Acts xviii. 8.), one that worshipped God, 
 and his house joined hard to the synagogue. Otherwise if his 
 distance from the church be great, his diligence is the greater 
 to come thither in season. 
 
 2. He is timely at the beginning of common prayer. Yet 
 as Tully charged some dissolute people for being such slug- 
 gards that they never saw the sun rising or setting, as being 
 always up after the one, and abed before the other ; * so some 
 negligent people never hear prayers begun, or sermon ended : 
 the confession being past before they come, and the blessing 
 not come before they are passed away. 
 
 3. In sermon he sets himsef to hear God in the minister. 
 Therefore divesteth he himself of all prejudice ; the jaundice 
 in the eyes of the soul presenting colours false unto it. He 
 hearkens very attentively ; it is a shame when the church itself 
 is c(£meterium, wherein the living sleep above ground as the 
 dead do beneath. 
 
 4. At every point that concerns himself he turns down a 
 leaf in his heart, and rejoiceth that God's word hath pierced 
 him, as hoping that whilst his soul smarts it heals. And as 
 it is no manners for him that hath good venison before him, 
 to ask whence it came, but rather fairly to fall to it ; so hear- 
 ing an excellent sermon, he never enquires whence the preacher 
 had it, or whether it was not before in print, but falls aboard 
 to practise it. 
 
 5. He accuseth ?wt his ininister of spite Jor particularizing 
 him. It does not follow that the archer aimed, because the 
 arrow hit. Rather our parishioner reasoneth thus : if my sin 
 be notorious, how could the minister miss it ; if secret, how 
 could he hit it without God's direction ? But foolish hearers 
 
 * De Finibus Boni et Mali, lib. 2. 
 
THE GOOD PARISHIONER. 73 
 make even the bells of Aaron's garments to clink as they think. 
 And a guilty conscience is like a whirlpool, drawing in all to 
 itself which otherwise would pass by. One causelessly dis- 
 alfected to his minister, complained that he in his last sermon 
 had personally inveighed against him, and accused him 
 thereof to a grave religious gentleman in the parish. Truly, 
 said the gentleman, I hud thought in his sermon he had meant 
 me, for it touched my heart. This rebated the edge of the 
 other's anger. 
 
 6. His tithes he pays willingly with cheerfulness. How 
 many part with God's portions grudgingly, or else pinch it in 
 the paying ! Decimum, the tenth,* amongst the Romans was 
 ever taken for what was best or biggest. It falls out other- 
 wise in paying of tithes, where the least and leanest are shifted 
 off to make that number. 
 
 7. He hides not himself from any parish-office which seeks 
 for him. If chosen churchwarden, he is not busily idle, 
 rather to trouble than reform, presenting all things but those 
 which he should. If overseer of the poor, he is careful the 
 rates be made indifferent (whose inequality oftentimes is more 
 burthensome than the sum), and well disposed of. He 
 measures not people's wants by their clamorous complaining, 
 and dispenseth more to those that deserve than to them that 
 only need relief. 
 
 8. He is bountiful in contributing to the repair of God's 
 house. For though he be not of their opinion who would 
 have the churches under the gospel conformed to the magni- 
 ficence of Solomon's temple, whose porch would serve us for 
 a church, and adorn them so gaudily, that devotion is more 
 distracted than raised, and men's souls rather dazzled than 
 lightened ; yet he conceives it fitting that such sacred places 
 should be handsomely and decently maintained : the rather 
 because the climacterical year of many churches fi'om their 
 first foundation, may seem to happen in our days ; so old, 
 that their ruin is threatened if not speedily repaired. 
 
 9. He is respectful to his minister'' s widow and posterity 
 for his sake. When the only daughter of Peter Martyr was, 
 through the riot and prodigality of her debauched husband, 
 
 * Fluctus Decimus, pro maximo. — Ovidio et Lucano. 
 
74 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 brought to extreme poverty, the state of Zurich,* out of grate- 
 ful remembrance of her father, supported her with bountiful 
 maintenance. My prayers shall be, that ministers' widows 
 and children may never stand in need of such relief, and may 
 never want such relief when they stand in need. 
 
 XXML— The Good Patron. 
 
 THAT in the primitive times, though I dare not say ge- 
 nerally in all churches, if not the sole choice, at least 
 the consent of the people was required in appointing of mi- 
 nisters, may partly appear out of Scripture, f more plamly 
 out of Cyprian, + and is confessed by the Rev. Dr. Whitgift. § 
 These popular elections were well discharged in those purer 
 times, when men being scoured with constant persecution 
 had little leisure to rust with factions, and when there were 
 no baits for corruption ; the places of ministers being then of 
 great pains and peril, and small profit. But dissension creep- 
 ing in, in after ages (the eyes of common people, at the best 
 but dim through ignorance, being wholly blinded with par- 
 tiality), it may seem their right of election was either devolved 
 to, or assumed of the bishop of the diocese, who only was to 
 appoint curates in every parish. || Afterwards, to invite lay- 
 men to build and endow churches, the bishops departed with 
 their right to the lay patrons, according to the verse, 
 
 Patronum faciunt dos, adijicatio, fundus. 
 
 A patron's he that did endow with lands, 
 
 Or built the church, or on whose ground it stands. 
 
 It being conceived reasonable that he who paid the 
 church's portion, should have the main stroke in providing 
 hei" an husband. Then came patronages to be annexed to 
 manors, and by sale or descent to pass along with them ; 
 nor could any justly complain thereof, if all patrons w^ere 
 like him we describe. 
 
 * Thuan. Obit. Vir. Doct. anno 1562. 
 t Acts xiv. 23. xHooTovi]aavTiQ. 
 X Lib. 1. Epist. 4. 
 
 Defence of the Answer to the Admonition, p. 164. 
 11 Concil. Toletan. anno 589. can. 9 ; Synod. Antiochen. can. 
 24 ; and 2 Concil. Gangvense, can. 7 and 8. 
 
THE GOOD PATRON. 75 
 
 1. He counts the living his to dispose^ not to make profit 
 of. He fears more to lapse his conscience, than his living ; 
 fears more the committing than the discovery of simony. 
 
 2. A benefice he sometimes giveth speedily, never rashly. 
 Some are long in bestowing them, out of state, because they 
 love to have many suitors ; others out of covetousness will 
 not open their wares till all their chapmen are come together, 
 pretending to take the more deliberation. 
 
 3. He is deaf to importunity , if ivanting desert. Yet is 
 he not of the mind of Tamerlane, the Scythian king, who 
 never gave office to any that sought for it : for desiring pro- 
 ceeds not always from want of deserving ; yea God himself 
 likes well that his favours should be sued for. Our patron 
 chiefly respects piety, sufficiency, and promise of painfulness, 
 whereby he makes his election. If he can by the same deed 
 provide for God's house and his own family, he counts it law- 
 ful, but on no terms will prefer his dearest and nearest son 
 or kinsman if unworthy. 
 
 4. He hates not only direct simony, or rather gehazism, by 
 the string, but also that which goes about by the bow. Ancient 
 councils present us with several forms hereof. I find how 
 the patron's sons and nephews were wont to feed upon the 
 incumbent, and eat out the presentation in great banquets and 
 dinners, till at last the Palentine council brought a voider to 
 such feasts, and made a canon against them.* But the former 
 ages were bunglers to the cunning contrivance of the simony- 
 engineers of our times. my soul, come thou not into their 
 secrets ! As if they cared not to go to hell, so be it were not 
 the nearest way, but that they might fetch a far compass 
 round about. And yet Father Campian must not carry it 
 so clearly, who taxeth the protestants for maintaining of 
 simony. t We confess it a personal vice amongst us, but not 
 to be charged as a church-sin, which by penal laws it doth 
 both prohibit and punish. Did Rome herein look upon the 
 dust behind her own doors, she would have but little cause 
 to call her neighbour slut. What saith the epigram ? 
 
 An Petrus fuerat Roma, sub judice lis est ; 
 Simonem Roma nemo fuisse negat. 
 
 * Concil. Palent. anno 1322. constit. 14. 
 
 t Vid. Videl. Comment, in Epist. Ignatii ad Trallenses. 
 
76 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 That Peter was at Rome, there's strife about it ; 
 That Simon was there, none did ever doubt it. 
 
 5. He hates corruption not only in himself] but his servants. 
 Otherv\ise it will do no good for the master to throw bribes 
 away, if the men catch them up at the first rebound, yea 
 before ever they come to the ground. Cambden can tell you 
 what lord-keeper it was in the days of Queen Elizabeth, who, 
 though himself an upright man, was hardly spoken of for the 
 baseness of his servants in the sale of ecclesiastical prefer- 
 ments.* 
 
 6. When he hath freely bestowed a living, he makes no 
 boasts of it. To do this were a kind of spiritual simony, to 
 ask and receive applause of others : as if the commonness of 
 faulting herein made a right, and the rarity of giving things 
 freely merited, ex condigno, a general commendation. He 
 expects nothing from the clerk he presented but his prayers 
 to God for him, respectful carriage towards him, and pain- 
 fulness in his caUing, who having gotten his place freely, may 
 discharge it the more faithfully: whereas those will scarce 
 afford to feed their sheep fat, who rent the pasture at too high 
 a rate. 
 
 To conclude, let patrons imitate this particular example of 
 King William Rufus, who, though sacrilegious in other acts, 
 herein discharged a good conscience. Two monks came to 
 him to buy an abbot's place of him, seeking to outvie each 
 other in offering great sums of money ; whilst a third monk 
 stood by, and said nothing. To whom said the king, " what 
 wilt thou give for the place?" " Not a penny," answered 
 he, " for it is against my conscience ; but here I stay to wait 
 home on him whom your royal pleasure shall design abbot." 
 " Then," quoth the king, " thou of the three best deservest 
 the place, and shalt have it;" and so bestowed it on him. 
 
 XXVIII. — The Good Landlord 
 
 IS one that lets his land on a reasonable rate, so that the 
 tenant, by employing his stock and using his industry, 
 may make an honest livelihood thereby, to maintain himself 
 and his children. 
 
 * In the Life of Queen Elizab. Anno Dom. 1596. 
 
THE GOOD LANDLORD. 77 
 
 1. His rent doth quicken his tenant, but not gall him. In- 
 deed, it is observed that where landlords are very easy, the 
 tenants (but this is per accidens, out of their own laziness) 
 seldom thrive, contenting themselves to make up the just 
 measure of their rent, and not labouring for any surplusage of 
 estate. But our landlord puts some metal into his tenant's 
 industry, yet not granting him too much, lest the tenant 
 revenge the landlord's cruelty to him upon his land. 
 
 2. Yet he raiseth his rents, or fines equivalent, in some 
 proportion to the present price of other commodities. The 
 plenty of money makes a seeming scarcity of all other things, 
 and wares of all sorts do daily grow dear. If, therefore, our 
 landlord should let his rents stand still as his grandfather left 
 them, whilst other wares daily go on in price, he must needs 
 be cast far behind in his estate. 
 
 3. What he sells or sets to his tenant, he suffers him quietlj/ 
 to enjoy according to his covenants. This is a great joy to a 
 tenant, though he buys dear to possess without disturbance. 
 A strange example there was of God's punishing a covetous 
 landlord, at Rye in Sussex, anno 1570.* He having a 
 certain marsh, wherein men on poles did dry their fish-nets, 
 received yearly of them a sufficient sum of money, till, not 
 content therewith, he caused his servant to pluck up the poles, 
 not suffering the fishermen to use them any longer, except 
 they would compound at a greater rate. But it came to pass 
 the same night, that the sea breaking in, covered the same 
 marsh with water, and so it still continueth. 
 
 4. He detests and abhors all inclosure with dopopulation . 
 And because this may seem a matter of importance, we will 
 break it into several propositions. 
 
 1 . Inclosure may be made without depopulating. Infi- 
 nities of examples shew this to be true. But depopulation 
 hath cast a slander on inclosure, which because often done 
 with it, people suspect it cannot be done without it. 
 
 2. Inclosure made without depopulating is iiijurious to 
 none. I rnean if proportionable allotments be made to the 
 poor for their commonage, and free and leaseholders have 
 a considerable share with the lord of the manor. 
 
 3. Inclosure loithout depopulating is beneficial to private 
 
 HoUnshed,p. 1224. 
 
78 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 persons. Then have they most power and comfort to im- 
 prove their own parts, and for the time and manner thereof 
 may mould it to their own conveniency. The monarch of 
 one acre will make more profit thereof, than he that hath 
 his share in forty in common. 
 
 4. Inclosiire without depopulating is profitable to the 
 commonwealth. If injurious to no private person, and pro- 
 fitable to them all, it must needs be beneficial to the com- 
 monwealth, which is but the summa totalis of sundry 
 persons, as several figures. Besides, if a mathematician 
 should count the wood in the hedges, to what a mighty 
 forest would it amount ? This underwood serves for sup- 
 plies to save timber from burning, otherwise our wooden 
 walls in the water mustihave been sent to the fire. Add 
 to this, the strength of an inclosed country against a foreign 
 invasion. Hedges and counterhedges, having in number 
 ■what they want in height and depth, serve for barricadoes, 
 and will stick as birdlime in the wings of the horse, and 
 scotch the wheeling about of the foot. Small resistance 
 will make the enemy to earn every mile of ground as he 
 marches. Object not, that inclosure destroys tillage, the 
 staff of a country, for it need not all be converted to pas- 
 turage. Cain and Abel may very well agxee in the com- 
 monwealth, the ploughman and shepherd part the inclosures 
 betwixt them. 
 
 5. Inclosure with depopulation is a canker to the com- 
 monwealth. It needs no proof : woful experience shews 
 how it uuhouses thousands of people, till desperate need 
 thrusts them on the gallows. Long since had this land 
 been sick of a pleurisy of people, if not let blood in their 
 western plantations. 
 
 6. Inclosure with depopulation endamageth the parties 
 themselves. It is a paradox and yet a truth, that reason 
 shews such inclosures to be gainful, and experience proves 
 them to be loss to the makers. It may be, because God 
 being (piXdvOpojirog, a lover of man, mankind, and men's 
 society, and having said to them, Multiply and increase, 
 counts it an affront unto him, that men depopulate, and 
 whereas bees daily swarm, men make the hives fewer. The 
 margin shall direct you to the author* that counts eleven 
 
 * Mr. Bentham's Christian Conflict, p. 322. 
 
THE GOOD LANDLORD. 79 
 manors in Northamptonshire thus inclosed : which towns 
 have vomited out, to use his own expression, and unbur- 
 thened themselves of their former desolating and depopu- 
 lating owners, and I think of their posterity. 
 5. He rejoiceth to see his tenants thrive. Yea, he counts 
 it a great honour to himself, when he perceiveth that God 
 blesseth their endeavours, and that they come forward in the 
 world. I close up all with this pleasant story. A farmer 
 rented a grange generally reported to be haunted by fairies, 
 and paid a shrewd rent for the same at each half year's end. 
 Now a gentleman asked him how he durst be so hardy as to 
 live in the house, and whether no spirits did trouble him. 
 Truth, said the farmer, there be two saints in heaven vex me 
 more than all the devils in hell, namely, the Virgin Mary 
 and Michael the archangel ; on whose days he paid his rent, 
 
 XXIX. — The Good Master of a College, 
 
 THE Jews, anno 1348, were banished out of most coun- 
 tries of Christendom, principally for poisoning of springs 
 and fountains.* Grievous, therefore, is their offence, who 
 infect colleges, the fountains of learning and religion ; and it 
 concerneth the church and state, that the heads of such houses 
 be rightly qualified, such men as we come to character. 
 
 1. His learning, if beneath eminency, is far above contempt. 
 Sometimes ordinary scholars make extraordinary good mas- 
 ters. Every one who can play well on Apollo's harp cannot 
 skilfully drive his chariot, there being a peculiar mystery of 
 government. Yea, as a little alloy makes gold to work the 
 better, so, perchance, some dulness in a man makes him 
 fitter to manage secular affairs ; and those who have climbed 
 up Parnassus but half way, better behold worldly business, 
 as lying low and nearer to their sight, than such as have 
 climbed up to the top of the mount. 
 
 2. He not only keeps the statutes in his study, but ob- 
 sei-ves them. For the maintaining of them will maintain him, 
 if he be questioned. He gives them their true dimensions, 
 not racking them for one, and shrinking them for another, but 
 making his conscience his daily visitor. He that breaks the 
 
 Munster de German, lib. iii. p. 457. 
 
80 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 statutes, and thinks to rule better by his own discretion, 
 makes many gaps in the hedge, and then stands to stop one 
 of them with a stake in liis hand. Besides, thus to confound 
 the will of the dead founders, is the ready way to make living 
 men's charity, like Sir Hugh Willoughby in discovering the 
 northern passage, to be frozen to death, and will dishearten 
 all future benefactors. 
 
 3. He is principal porter, and chief chapel rrumitor. For 
 where the master keeps his chamber always, the scholars will 
 keep theirs seldom, yea, perchance, may make all the walls 
 of the college to be gate. He seeks to avoid the inconvenience 
 when the g-ates do rather divide than confine the scholars, 
 when the college is distinguished, as France, into cis et trans- 
 alpina, into the part on this and on the other side of the 
 walls. As for out-lodgings (like galleries, necessar}^ evils in 
 populous churches), he rather tolerates than approves them. 
 
 4. In hia elect iotus he respecteth merit, not only as the 
 condition, but as the cause thereof. Not like Leofricus, 
 abbot of St. Alban's, who \vould scarce admit any into his 
 convent, though well deserving, except he was a gentleman 
 born.* He more respects literature in a scholar, than great 
 men's letters for him. A learned master of a college in Cam- 
 bridge (since made a reverend bishop, and to the great grief 
 of good men and great loss of God's church, lately deceased) 
 refused a mandate for choosing of a worthless man, Fellow. 
 And when it was expected that at the least he should have 
 been ousted of his mastership for this his contempt. King 
 James highly commended him, and encouraged him ever 
 after to follow his own conscience, when the like occasion 
 should be given him. 
 
 5. He winds up the tenants to make good music, but not to 
 break them. Sure college-lands were never given to fat the 
 tenants and starve the scholars, but that both might com- 
 fortably subsist. Yea, generally I hear the muses com- 
 mended for the best landladies, and a college-lease is ac- 
 counted but as the worst kind of freehold. 
 
 6. He is observant to do all due right to benefactors. If 
 not piety, policy would dictate this unto him. And though 
 he respects not benefactors' kinsmen, when at their first ad- 
 
 * Matth. Paris, in 23. Abbat. S. Alban. p. 42. 
 
MASTER OF A COLLEGE. 81 
 mission they count themselves born heirs-apparent to all 
 preferment which the house can heap on them, and therefore 
 grow lazy and idle ; yet he counts their alliance, seconded 
 with mediocrity of desert, a strong title to college advance- 
 ment. 
 
 7. He counts it lawful to ewich himself, but in subordina- 
 tion to the college good. Not like Varus, governor of Syria, 
 who came poor into the country, and found it rich, but de- 
 parted thence rich, and left the country poor. Methinks it is 
 an excellent commendation which Trinity College in Cam- 
 bridge, in her records, bestows on Dr. Still, once master 
 thereof : Se ferebat patremfamilias providu7n, ayaOuv Kovpo- 
 'rp6<pov, nec collegio gravis fuit aut onerosus. 
 
 8. He disdains to nourish dissension amongst the members 
 of his house. Let Machiavel's maxim, Divide et regnabis, 
 if offering to enter into a college-gate, sink through the grate, 
 and fall down with the dirt. For, besides that the fomenting 
 of such discords agrees not with a good conscience, each party 
 will watch advantages, and pupils will often be made to suffer 
 for their tutors' quarrels : Stadium partium will be magna 
 pars studiorum, and the college have more rents than reve- 
 nues. 
 
 9. He scorneth the plot to make only dunces Fellows, to the 
 end he may himself command in chief: as thinking that they 
 who know nothing will do anything, and so he shall be a 
 figure amongst ciphers, a bee amongst drones. Yet often- 
 times such masters are justly met with, and they find by 
 experience that the dullest horses are not easiest to be reined. 
 But our master endeavours so to order his elections, that 
 every scholar may be fit to make a fellow, and every fellow 
 a master. 
 
 XXX. — The Life of Dr. Metcalf. 
 
 NICHOLAS Metcalf, Doctor of Divinity, extracted out 
 of an ancient and numerous family of gentry in York- 
 shire, was archdeacon of Rochester, and chaplain to John 
 Fisher, the bishop thereof; by whom this our doctor was 
 employed to issue forth the moneys for the building of St. 
 John's College in Cambridge. For Margaret, Countess of 
 Richmond and Derby, intendn)g to graft St. John's College 
 
 G 
 
82 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 into the old stock of St. John's Hospital, referred all to the 
 bishop of Rochester, and he used ISIetcalf as an agent in all 
 proceedings which did concern that foundation : which will 
 infer him to be both a wise and an honest man. 
 
 Some make him to be but meanly learned;* and one 
 telleth us a long story how a sophist put a fallacy upon him,t 
 a s€7isu diviso ad seusuni composifum, and yet the Doctor's dim 
 eyes could not discern it. But such trifles were beneath him ; 
 and what wonder is it if a general, long used in governing an 
 army, hath forgotten his school-play, and fencer's rules to 
 put by every thrust ? 
 
 Doubtless, had not his learning been sufficient, Bishop 
 Fisher, a great clerk himself, would not have placed him to 
 govern die college. But we know that some count all others 
 but dry scholars, whose learning runneth in a different chan- 
 nel from their own : and it is possible, that the great distance 
 betwixt men in matter of religion, might hinder the new 
 learning in one to see the old learning in the other. 
 
 But grant that ^letcalf, with Themistocles, could not 
 fiddle, yet he could make a little city a great one : though 
 dull in himself, he could whet others by his encouragement. 
 He found the college spending scarcely two hundred marks 
 by the year: he left it spending a thousand marks and more. + 
 For he not only procured and settled many donations, and 
 by foundations, as we term tliem, of fellowships, and scho- 
 larships founded by others ; but was a benefactor himself, 
 pro certis ornamentis et structuris in capella, et pro (tdijica- 
 tione sex camerarum a tcrgo coquinrc, kc. as it is evidenced 
 in the college-books. He counted the college his own home, 
 and therefore cared not what cost he bestowed on it : not like 
 those masters who, making their colleges as steps to higher 
 advancement, will trample on them to raise up themselves ; 
 and, using their wings to fly up to their own honour, cannot 
 afl^brd to spread them to brood their college. But tlie thriv- 
 ing of the nursery is the best argument to prove the skill and 
 care of the nurse. See what store of worthy men the house 
 in his time did yield : 
 
 ♦ Ascham, Schoolmaster, book 2. fol. 47. 
 
 r Lively, in his Chron. of Persian Monarchy, p. 196. 
 
 $ Ascham, in loco priiis citato. 
 
LIFE OF DR. MET CALF. 83 
 William Cecil, Lord Burleigh, -| 
 Sir John Cheek, j- Statesmen. 
 
 Walter Haddon. 
 Ralph Bain, 
 John Christopherson, 
 Robert Horn, 
 James Pilkinton, 
 John Tailor, 
 Thomas W^atson. 
 Roger Ascham, 
 George Bullock,* 
 Roger Hutchinson,! 
 Alban Langdale, 
 John Seaton. 
 Hugh Fitz-Herbert, 
 William Ireland, 
 Laurence Pilkinton, 
 
 Tomson, 
 
 Henry Wright. -J 
 
 With very many more. For though I dare not say that 
 all these were old enough to bear fruit in Metcalf s time, yet 
 sure I am by him they were inoculated, and in his days ad- 
 mitted into the college. 
 
 Yet for all these his deserts, Metcalf in his old age was ex- 
 pelled the college, and driven out when he could scarce go. 
 A new generation grew up, advanced by him, whose active 
 spirits stumbled at his gTavity (young seamen do count bal- 
 last needless, yea, burthensome in a ship), and endeavoured 
 his removal. It appears not what particular fault they laid 
 to his charge. Some think that the bishop of Rochester, his 
 good lord, being put to death, occasioned his ruin ; Fisher's 
 misfortune being Metcalfs highest misdemeanour. He sunk 
 with his patron, and when his sun was set, it was presently 
 night with him : for, according to the Spanish proverb. Where 
 goes the bucket, there goes the rope ;X where the principal 
 miscarries, all the dependants fall with him. 
 
 I 
 
 f Coventry and Lichfield. 
 Chichester, 
 ^ ^ Winton. 
 j Duresrne, 
 j Lincoln, 
 t Lincoln. 
 
 1 
 
 Learned writers. 
 
 Learned men. 
 
 * Pitzaeus, de Scriptor. Angli. p. 773. 
 t Baleus, de Scripioi . AngUcanis. 
 X " Yra la soga con el calderon." 
 
84 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Others conceive it was for his partiaHty in preferring 
 northern men, as if in his compass there were no points but 
 such only as looked to the north, advancing alone his own 
 countrymen, and more respecting their need than deserts. 
 Indeed long before^* I find William Millington first provost 
 of King's College put out of his place, for his partiality in 
 electing Yorkshiremen. 
 
 But herein Metcalf is sufficiently justified : for he found 
 ciiarity hottest in the cold country. No? them men were most 
 partial, saith one,t in giviyig lands to the college for the fur- 
 ther-ance of leaDung. Good reason therefore northern scholars 
 should be most watered there, where northern benefactors 
 rained most. 
 
 Well, good old Metcalf must forsake the house. INIethinks 
 the blushing bricks seem ashamed of their ingTatitudes, and 
 each door, w^indow, and casement in the college, was a mouth 
 to plead for him. 
 
 But what shall we say? INIark generally the grand de- 
 servers in states, and you shall find them lose their lustre be- 
 fore they end their life. The w^orld, out of covetousness to 
 save charges to pay them their wages, quarrelling with them, 
 as if an over-merit were an offence. And whereas some 
 impute this to the malignant influence of the heavens, I as- 
 cribe it rather to a pestilent vapour out of the earth ; I mean, 
 that rather men than stars are to be blamed for it. 
 
 He was twenty years master, and on the 4th day of June, 
 1537, went out of his office, and it seems died soon after : 
 his epitaph is fastened on a piece of brass on the wall, in the 
 college chapel. We must not forget that all who were 
 great doers in his expulsion, were great sufferers afterwards, 
 and died all in great misery.]: There is difference betwixt 
 prying into God's secrets, and being stark blind : yea, I 
 question whether we are not bound to look where God points 
 by so memorable a judgment, shewing that those branches 
 most justly withered which plucked up their own root. 
 
 * 1446. Manuscrip. Hutcher. Coll. Regal, 
 t Ascham, in loco citato. 
 
 X " Omnes qui Metcalfi excludendi autores exstiterunt, multis 
 adversae fortunae procellis (sive divina ultione seu fato suo) jac- 
 tati.de giadu dejecti et deturbati, ingloril mortem obieruntexem- 
 plo meraorabili."— Caius, lib. i. Hist. Cantab, pp. 75 et 76. 
 
85 
 
 XXXI. — The Good Schoolmaster. 
 
 THERE is scarce any profession in the commonwealth 
 more necessary, which is so slightly performed. The 
 reasons whereof I conceive to be these : First, Young scholars 
 make this calling their refuge, yea, perchance, before they 
 have taken any degree in the university, commence school- 
 masters in the country, as if nothing else were required to 
 set up this profession but only a rod and a ferula. Second- 
 ly, Others who are able, use it only as a passage to better 
 preferment, to patch the rents in their present fortune, till 
 they can provide a new one, and betake themselves to some 
 more gainful calling. Thirdly, They are disheartened from 
 doing their best with the miserable reward which in some 
 places they receive, being masters to the children, and slaves 
 to their parents. Fourthly, Being grown rich, they grow 
 negligent, and scorn to touch the school, but by the proxy 
 of an usher. But see how well our schoolmaster behaves 
 himself. 
 
 1. His genius inclines him with delight to his profession. 
 Some men had as lief be schoolboys as schoolmasters, to be 
 tied to the school as Cooper's Dictionary and Scapula's 
 Lexicon are chained to the desk therein ; and though great 
 scholars, and skilful in other arts, are bunglers in this : but 
 God of his goodness hath fitted several men for several call- 
 ings, that the necessity of church and state, in all conditions, 
 may be provided for. So that he who beholds the fabric 
 thereof may say, God hewed out this stone, and appointed 
 it to lie in this very place, for it would fit none other so well, 
 and here it doth most excellent. And thus God mouldeth 
 some for a schoolmaster's life, undertaking it with desire and 
 delight, and discharging it with dexterity and happy success. 
 
 2 . He studies his scholars' natures as carefully as they their 
 books ; and ranks their dispositions into several forms. And 
 though it may seem difficult for him in a great school to de- 
 scend to all particulars, yet experienced schoolmasters may 
 quickly make a grammar of boys' natures, and reduce them 
 all, saving some few exceptions, to these general rules : 
 
 1. Those that are ingenious and industrious. The con- 
 junction of two such planets in a youth presage much 
 
86 THE HOLT STATE. 
 
 good unto him. To such a lad a frown may be a ■whip- 
 ping, and a whipping a death ; yea, where their master 
 whips them once., shame whips them all the week after. 
 Such natures he usetli with all gentleness. 
 
 2. Those tliat are ingenious and idle. These think, 
 with the hare in tlie fable, tliat, nmning with snails (so 
 they count the rest of their schoolfellows), they shall come 
 soon enough to the post, though sleeping a good while 
 before their starting. Oh, a good rod would finely take 
 them napping ! 
 
 3. Tliose that are dull and diligent. Wines the stronger 
 they be the more lees they have when they are new. Manv 
 boys are muddy-headed till they be clarihed with age, 
 and such aftenvards prove the best. Bristol diamonds are 
 botli bright, and squared and pointed by nature, and yet 
 are soft and worthless ; whereas orient ones in India are 
 rough and rugged naturally. Hard, rugged, and dull 
 natures of youth acquit themselves afterwards the jewels 
 of the coimtry, and tlierefore tlieir dalness at first is to be 
 borne with, if they be diligent. Tliat schoolmaster de- 
 serves to be beaten himself, who beats nature in a boy for 
 a fault. And I question whether all the whippine in the 
 world can make their parts, who are naturally slugsrish, 
 rise one minute before the hour uatui-e hath appointed. 
 
 4. Those that are invincibly dull and negligent also. 
 Correction may i-eform die latter, not amend the former. 
 All the whetting in tlie world can never set a razor's edge 
 on that which hath no steel in it. Such boys he consigneth 
 over to otlier professions. Shipwinghts and boatmakers 
 will choose those crooked pieces of timber which other 
 carpenters reftise. Those may make excellent merchants 
 and mechanics who will not serve for scholars. 
 
 3. Ht is able, diligent j and methodical in his teaching ; 
 not leading them rather in a circle than forwards. He minces 
 his precepts for children to swallow, hanging clogs on the 
 nirableuess of his own soul, that his scholars may go along 
 witli him. 
 
 4. He is and will be known to be an absolute monarch in 
 his Si'hool. If cockering mothers profier him money to pur- 
 chase their sons an exemption firom his rod (to live as it 
 were in a peculiar, out of their master's jurisdiction), with 
 
GOOD SCHOOLMASTER. 87 
 disdain he refuseth it, and scorns the late custom, in some 
 places, of commuting whipping into money, and ransoming 
 boys from the rod at a set price. If he hath a stubborn 
 youth, correction- proof, he debaseth not his authority by 
 contesting with him, but fairly, if he can, puts him away be- 
 fore his obstinacy hath infected others. 
 
 5. He is moderate in injiicting deserved correction. Many 
 a schoolmaster better answereth the name TraiSorpitrjg than 
 waidayioybg, rather tearing his scholars' flesh with whipping, 
 than giving them good education. No wonder if his scholars 
 hate the muses, being presented unto them in the shapes of 
 fiends and furies. Junius complains de insolenti carnijicina 
 of his schoolmaster,* by whom conscindehatur Jlagris septies 
 aut octies in dies singulos. Yea, hear the lamentable verses 
 of poor Tusser, in his own Life : 
 
 From FauVs 1 went, to Eton sent, 
 To learn straightways the Latin phrase, 
 Where jifty-three stripes given to me 
 
 At once I had. 
 For fault hut small, or none at all. 
 It came to pass thus beat I was ; 
 See, Udal,f see the mercy of thee 
 
 To me, poor lad. 
 
 Such an Orbilius mars more scholars than he makes: 
 their tyranny hath caused many tongues to stammer, which 
 spake plain by nature, and whose stuttering at first was 
 nothing else but fears quavering on their speech at their mas- 
 ter's presence ; and whose mauling them about their heads 
 hath dulled those who in quickness exceeded their master. 
 
 6. He makes his school free to him who sues to him in 
 forma pauperis. And surely learning is the greatest alms that 
 can be given. But he is a beast who, because the poor 
 scholar cannot pay him his wages, pays the scholar in his 
 whipping. Rather are diligent lads to be encouraged with 
 all excitements to learning. This minds me of what I have 
 heard concerning Mr. Bust, that worthy late schoolmaster of 
 
 * In his Life, of his own writing. 
 
 t Nich. Udal, schoolmaster of Eton in the reign of King 
 Ilcnry the Eighth. 
 
88 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Eton, who would never suffer any wandering begging 
 scholar, such as justly the statute hath ranked in the forefront 
 of rogues, to come into his school, but would thrust him out 
 with earnestness (however privately charitable unto him) lest 
 his schoolboys should be disheartened from their books, by 
 seeing some scholars, after their studying in the university, 
 preferred to beggary. 
 
 7. He spoils not a good school to make thereof a had college, 
 therein to teach his scholars logic. For besides that logic 
 may have an action of trespass against grammar for encroach- 
 ing on her liberties, syllogisms are solecisms taught in the 
 school, and oftentimes they are forced afterwards in the uni- 
 versity to unleai-n the fumbling skill they had before. 
 
 8. Out of his school he is no ichit pedantical i?i carriage or 
 discourse ; contenting himself to be rich in Latin, though he 
 doth not jingle '^'ith it in every company wherein he comes. 
 
 To conclude, let this amongst otlier motives make school- 
 masters careful in their place, that the eminencies of their 
 scholars have commended the memories of their school- 
 masters to posterity, who otherwise in obscurity had altogether 
 been forgotten. Who had ever heard of R. Bond in Lanca- 
 shire,* but for the breeding of learned Ascham his scholar ; 
 or of Hartgrave in Bmndley school,t in the same county, 
 but because he was the tirst did teach worthy Dr. WTiitaker ? 
 Nor do 1 honour the meraoiy of ^Mulcaster for any thing so 
 much as for his scholar, that gulf of learning. Bishop 
 Andrews. This made the Athenians, the day before the 
 great feast of Tlieseus their founder, to sacrifice a ram to the 
 memory of Conidas his schoolmaster that first instructed 
 him. I 
 
 XXXII. — The Goon Mekchaxt 
 
 IS one who by his trading claspeth the islands to the con- 
 tinent, and one country to another. An excellent gar- 
 dener, who makes England bear wine, and oil, and spices ; 
 vea herein goes beyond nature in causing that oninis fert 
 omnia tellus. He wrongs neither himself nor the comraon- 
 
 * Grant, in Vit. Ascham, p. 629. 
 + Ashton, in the Life of Whitaker, p. 29. 
 Plutarch, in Vit. Thesei. 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 89 
 wealth, nor private chapmen who buy commodities of him. 
 As for his behaviour towards the commonweahh, it far sur- 
 passes my skill to give any rules thereof ; only this I know, 
 that to export things of necessity, and to bring in foreign 
 needless toys, makes a rich merchant, and a poor kingdom : 
 for the state loseth her radical moisture, and gets little better 
 than sweat in exchange, except the necessaries which are 
 exported be exceeding plentiful, which then, though necessary 
 in their own nature, become superfluous through their abun- 
 dance. We will content ourselves to give some general 
 advertisements concerning his behaviour towards his chap- 
 men, whom he useth well in the quantity, quality, and price 
 of the commodities he sells them. 
 
 1. He wrongs not the buyer in number, weight, or measure. 
 These are the landmarks of all trading, which must not be 
 removed : for such cozenage were worse than open felony. 
 First, Because they rob a man of his purse, and never bid 
 him stand. Secondly, Because highway thieves defy, but 
 these pretend justice. Thirdly, As much as lies in their 
 power, they endeavour to make God accessary to their 
 cozenage, deceiving by pretending his weights. For God is 
 the principal clerk of the market : all the weights of the bag 
 are his work,* 
 
 2. He never warrants any ware for good, but what is so 
 indeed. Otherwise he is a thief, and may be a murderer, if 
 selling such things as are applied inwardly. Besides, in 
 such a case he counts himself guilty if he selleth such wares 
 as are bad, though without his knowledge, if avouching them 
 for good ; because he may, professeth, and is bound to be 
 master in his own mystery, and therefore in conscience must 
 recompense the buyer's loss, except he gives him an item to 
 buy it at his own adventure. 
 
 3. He either tells the faults in his ware, or abates propor- 
 tionably in the price he demands : for then the low value 
 shews the viciousness of it. Yet commonly when merchants 
 depart with their commodities, we hear, as in funeral orations, 
 all the virtues but none of the faults thereof. 
 
 4. He never demands out of distance of the price he intends 
 
 * Prov. xvi. 11. 
 
90 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 to take : if not always \vithin the touch, yet within the reach 
 of what he means to sell for. Now, we must know there 
 be four several prices of vendible things. First, The price of 
 the market, which ebbs and flows according to the plenty or 
 scarcit)- of coin, commodities, and chapmen. Secondly, Tlie 
 price of friendship, which perchance is more giving than 
 selling, and therefore not so proper at tliis time. Tliirdly, 
 The price of fancy, as twenty pounds or more for a dog or 
 hawk, when no such inherent worth can naturally be in 
 them, but by the buyer's and seller's fancy reflectincr on them. 
 Yet I believe the money may be lawfully taken : First, 
 Because the seller sometimes on those terms is as loth to 
 forego it, as the buyer is willing to have it : and I know no 
 standard herein whereby men's affections may be measured. 
 Secondly, It being a matter of pleasure, and men able and 
 willing, let them pay for it : volenti non fit injuria. Lastly, 
 There is the price of cozenage, which our merchant from his 
 heart detests and abhors. 
 
 5. He makes not advantage of his chapman's ignorance, 
 chiefii/ if referring himself to his honesty : where the seller's 
 conscience is all tlie buyer's skill, who makes him both seller 
 and judge, so that he dotli not so much ask as order what he 
 must pay. When one told old Bishop Latimer that the 
 cutler had cozened him, in making him pay twopence for a 
 knife, not in those days worth a penny : A'o, quoth Lati- 
 mer, he cozened not me, hut his oicn conscience. On the 
 otiier side, St. Augustine tells us of a seller, * who out of 
 ignorance asked for a book far less than it was worth ; and 
 the buyer (conceive himself to be the man if you please) of 
 his owii accord gave him the full value thereof. 
 
 (3. He makes not the bui/erpai/ the shot for hisprodigalitt/ ; 
 as wlien the merchant, through his own ignorance or ill hus- 
 bandry-, hath bought dear, he will not bring in his unnecessary 
 expenses on tlie buyer's score : and in such a case he is bound 
 to sell cheaper than he bought. 
 
 7. Selling bij retail, he mat/ justi fy the taking o f greater 
 gain : because of his care, pains, and cost of fetching those 
 wares from the fountain, and in parcelling and dividing them. 
 
 * Lib. 13. de Trinitat. c. 3. 
 
THE GOOD MERCHANT. 91 
 Yet, because retailers trade commonly with those who have 
 least skill what they buy, and commonly sell to the poorer 
 sort of people, they must be careful not to grate on their ne- 
 cessity. 
 
 But how long shall I be retaihng out rules to this merchant ? 
 It would employ a casuist an apprenticeship of years : take 
 our Saviour's wholesale rule ; Whatfioever ye would have men 
 do unto you^ do you unto them, for this is the law and the 
 prophets. 
 
 XXXIII.— The Good Yeoman 
 
 IS a gentleman in ore, whom the next age may see refined, 
 and is the wax capable of a gentle impression, when the 
 prince shall stamp it. Wise Solon, who accounted Tellus 
 the Athenian the most happy man for living privately on his 
 own lands,* would surely have pronounced the English 
 yeomanry a fortunate condition, living in the temperate zone, 
 betwixt greatness and want, an estate of people almost pecu- 
 liar to England. France and Italy are like a die, which hath 
 no points between sink and ace, nobility and peasantry. 
 Their walls, though high, must needs be hollow, wanting fill- 
 ing stones. Indeed Germany hath her boors, like our yeo- 
 men, but by a tyrannical appropriation of nobility to some few 
 ancient families, their yeomen are excluded from ever rising 
 higher to clarify their bloods. In England, the temple of 
 honour is bolted against none who have passed through the 
 temple of virtue ; nor is a capacity to be gentle denied to our 
 yeoman, who thus behaves himself. 
 
 1. He wears russet clothes, but makes golden payment, 
 having tin in his buttons, and silver in his pocket. If he 
 chance to appear in clothes above his rank, it is to grace some 
 great man with his service, and then he blusheth a- his own 
 bravery. Otherwise he is the surest landmark, whence 
 foreigners may take aim of the ancient English customs ; the 
 gentry more floating after foreign fashions. 
 
 2. In his house he is bountiful both to strangers and poor 
 people. Some hold when hospitality died in England, she 
 gave her last groan amongst the yeomen of Kent. And still 
 
 * Herodotus, lib. 1. p. 12. 
 
92 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 at our yeoman's table you shall have as many jomts as dishes : 
 no meat disguised witli strange sauces ; no stragghng joint 
 of a sheep in the midst of a pasture of grass, beset with 
 salads on every side, but solid substantial food ; no ser\-itors 
 (more nimble with tlieir hands than the guests with their 
 teeth) take away meat before stomachs are taken away. 
 Here you have that which in itself is good made better by 
 the store of it, and best by the welcome to it. 
 
 3. He hath a great stroke in tnaki/ig a knight o f the shire. 
 Good reason, for he makes a whole line in the subsidy book, 
 where, whatsoever he is rated, he pays without any regret, 
 not caring how much his purse is let blood, so it be done by 
 the advice of the physicians of the state. 
 
 4. He sehiom goes tar abroad, and his credit stretcheth 
 further than his travel. He goes not to London, but se de- 
 fendendo, to save himself of a tine, being returned of a jury, 
 where, seeing the king once, he prays for him ever after- 
 wards. 
 
 5. In his aicn country he is a main man injuries, ^^'here, 
 if the judge please to open his eyes in matter of law, he needs 
 not to be led by the nose in matters of fact. He is very 
 observant of the judge's item, when it follows the truths 
 imprimis ; otherwise, though not mutmous in a jury, he cares 
 not whom he displeaseth, so he pleiiseth his own conscience. 
 
 6. He improveth his land to a double value by his good 
 husbandly. Some grounds that wept with water, or frowned 
 with thorns, by draining the one, and clearing the other, he 
 makes both to laush and sing with corn. By marl and lime- 
 stones burnt, he bettereth his ground, and his industry- worketh 
 miracles, by turning stones into bread. Conquest and good 
 husbandry both enlarge the king's dominions: the one by 
 *he sword, making the acres more in number; the other by 
 the plough, making tlie same acres more in value. Solomon 
 saith. The king himself is maintained by husbandry. Pythis, 
 a king, having discovered rich mines in liis kingdom, em- 
 ployed all his people in digging of them, whence tilling was 
 wholly neglected, insomuch as a great famine ensued. His 
 queen, sensible of the oilamities of the countri-, invited the 
 king, her husband, to dinner, as he came home hangry from 
 overseeing his workmen in the mmes. She so contrived it, 
 that the bread and meat were most artificially made of gold ; 
 
THE GOOD YEOMAN. 93 
 and the king was much delighted with the conceit thereof, 
 till at last he called for real meat to satisfy his hunger. Nai^, 
 said the queen, if you employ all your subjects in your mines, 
 you must expect to feed upon gold, for nothing else can your 
 kingdom afford* 
 
 7. In time of famine he is the Joseph of the country, and 
 keeps the poor from starving. Then he tameth his stacks of 
 corn, which not his covetousness but providence hath reserved 
 for time of need, and to his poor neighbours abateth some- 
 what of the high price of the market. The neighbour gentry 
 court him for his acquaintance, which either he modestly 
 waveth, or thankfully accepteth, but no way greedily desireth. 
 He insults not on the ruins of a decayed gentleman, but 
 pities and reheves him ; and as he is called Goodman, he 
 desires to answer to the name, and to be so indeed. 
 
 8. In war, though he serveth on foot, he is ever mounted 
 on a high spirit: as being a slave to none, and a subject 
 only to his own prince. Innocence and independence make 
 a brave spirit : whereas otherwise, one must ask his leave to 
 be valiant on whom he depends. Therefore if a state run up 
 all to noblemen and gentlemen, so that the husbandmen be 
 only mere labourers or cottagers, which one calls but housed 
 beggars,t it may have good cavalry, but never good bands 
 of foot; so that their armies will be like those birds called 
 Apodes, without feet, always only flying on their wings of 
 horse. Wherefore, to make good infantry, it requireth men 
 bred, not in a servile or indigent fashion, but in some free 
 and plentiful manner. Wisely, therefore, did that knowing 
 prince, King Henry the Seventh, provide laws for the in- 
 crease of his yeomanry, that his kingdom should not be like 
 to coppice-woods, where the staddles being left too thick, all 
 runs to bushes and briers, and there is little clean under- 
 wood. For, enacting that houses used to husbandry should 
 be kept up with a competent proportion of land, he did 
 secretly sow hydras' teeth, whereupon, according to the 
 poet's fiction, should rise up armed men for the service of 
 this kingdom. 
 
 * Plutarch, de Virtut. Mulierum, exemplo ultimo, 
 t Bacon's Henry VH. p. 74. 
 
94 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 XXXIV. — The Haxdicraftsmax. 
 
 TT E is a necessary member in a commonwealtli : for 
 A J- though nature, ^vhich hath armed most other creatures, 
 sent man naked into the world, yet in giving him hands and 
 wit to use them, in effect slie gave him shells, scales, paws, 
 claws, horns, tusks, with all offensive and defensive weapons 
 of beasts, fish, and fowl, which by the help of his hands, in 
 imitation, he may provide for himself, and herein the skill of 
 our artisan doth consist. 
 
 1. His ii-ade is such whereby he provides things necessary 
 for mankind. What St. Paul saith of the natural, is also true 
 of the politic body :* those members of the body are much 
 more necessary which seem most feeble. Mean trades for 
 profit are most necessary in the state, and a house may better 
 want a gallery than a kitchen. The Philistines knew this 
 when they massacred all tlie smiths in Israel, who might 
 worse be spared than all the usurers therein, and whose 
 hammers nail the commonwealth together, being necessary 
 both in peace and war. 
 
 2. Or else his trade cojitributeth to inati's lawful pleasure. 
 God is not so hard a master but that he alloweth his servants 
 sauce, besides hunger, to eat with their meat. 
 
 3. But in no case ivill he be of such a trade which is a 
 mere pander to 7nans lust ; and only serves their wantonness 
 (which is pleasure run stark mad) and foolish curiosity. 
 Yet are there too many extant of such professions, who, 
 one would think, should stand in daily fear lest the world 
 should turn wise, and so all trades be cashiered, but that (be 
 it spoken to their shame !) it is as safe a tenure to hold a 
 livelihood by men's riot as by their necessity. 
 
 4. The wares he makes shew good to the eye, but prove 
 better in the use. For he knows if he sets his mark, the 
 tower-stamp of his credit, on any bad wares, he sets a 
 deeper brand on his own conscience. Nothing hath more 
 debased the credit of our English cloth beyond the seas, than 
 the deceitfulness in making them, since the fox hath crept 
 under the fleece of the sheep. 
 
 * 1 Cor. xii. 
 
THE HANDICRAFTSMAN. 95 
 
 5. By his ingeniousness he leaves his art better than he 
 found it. Herein the Hollanders are excellent, where chil- 
 dren get their living, when but newly they have gotten their 
 life, by their industry. Indeed nature may seem to have 
 made those Netherlanders the younger brethren of mankind, 
 allowing them little land, and that also standing in daily 
 fear of a double deluge of the sea and the Spaniard : but 
 such is their painfulness and ingenuity, hating laziness as 
 much as they love liberty, that what commodities grow not 
 on their country by nature, they graft on it by art, and have 
 wonderfully improved all making of manufactures, stuffs, 
 clocks, watches : these latter at first were made so great and 
 heavy, it was rather a burden than an ornament to wear 
 them ; though since, watches have been made as light and 
 little as many that wear them make of their time. 
 
 6. He is ivilling to communicate his skill to posterity. 
 An invention, though found, is lost if not imparted. But as 
 it is reported of some old toads, that before their death they 
 suck up the jelly in their own heads, which otherwise would 
 be hardened into a precious stone, out of spite, that men 
 should receive no benefit thereby ; so some envious artisans 
 will have their cunning die with them, that none may be the 
 better for it, and had rather all mankind should lose, than 
 any man gain by them. 
 
 7. He seldom attaineth to any very great estate : except 
 his trade hath some outlets and excursions into wholesale 
 and merchandise ; otherwise, mere artificers cannot heap up 
 much wealth. It is difficult for gleaners, without stealing 
 whole sheaves, to fill a barn. His chief wealth consisteth in 
 enough, and that he can live comfortably, and leave his 
 children the inheritance of their education. 
 
 8. Yet he is a grand benefactor to the commonwealth. 
 England, in former ages, like a dainty dame, partly out of 
 state, but more out of laziness, would not suckle the fruit of 
 her own body, to make the best to battle and improve her 
 own commodities, but put them out to nurse to the Nether- 
 landers, who were well paid for their pains. In those days, 
 the sword and the plough so took up all men's employments 
 that clothing was wholly neglected, and scarce any other 
 webs to be found in houses than what the spiders did make. 
 But since, she hath seen and mended her error, making the 
 
96 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 best use of her own wool ; and indeed the riches of a king- 
 dom doth consist in driving the home commodities thereof 
 as far as they will oo, working them to their veiy perfection, 
 emplo^-inof more handicrafts tlierehy. The sheep feeds more 
 with his tieece than his flesh, doing the one but once, but the 
 other once a year, many families subsisting by the working 
 thereof. Let not meaner persons be displeased with reading 
 those verses where-with Queen Elizabeth herself was so highly 
 affected, when, in the one-and-twentieth year of her reign, 
 she came in progress to Norwich,t wherein a child, repre- 
 senting the state of the city, spake to her highness as fol- 
 loweth : — 
 
 Most gracious Prince, undoubted sovereign Queen, 
 Our only jo^fy next God, and chief de fence ; 
 In this small shoic our whole estate w seeriy 
 The wealth we have, we find proceeds from hence: 
 The idle hand hath here no place to feed, 
 The painful wight hath still to serve his need. 
 Again, our seat denies us traJHc here ; 
 The sea too near divides us from the rest : 
 So iceak we icere within this dozen year, 
 That care did quench the courage o f the best : 
 But good advice hath taught these little hands 
 To rend in ficain the fierce of pining hands.X 
 From combed wool we draw this slender thread ; 
 From thence the looms have dealing icith the same ; 
 And thence again, in order, do proceed 
 These several works ichich skilful art doth frame: 
 
 And all to drive Dame Xeed into her cave, 
 ' Our heads and hands together laboured have. 
 We bought befiore the things which now we sell: 
 These slender imps, their works do pass the waves: 
 God's peace and thine we hold, and prosper welly 
 Ofi every mouth the hands the charges saves : 
 
 Thus through thy help, and aid ofi power divine, 
 Doth Xoncich live, whose hearts and goods are thine. 
 
 t HoliDgshed, p. 1290. 
 
 X Sixteen little children were there presented to her majesty, 
 eight spinning worsted, and eight knitting yarn hose. 
 
THE HANDICRAFTSMAN. 97 
 
 We have cause to hope that as we have seen the cities 
 Dornicks and Arras brought over into England, so posterity 
 may see all Flanders brought hither, I mean that their works 
 shall be here imitated, and that either our land shall be taught 
 to bear foreign commodities, or our people taught to for- 
 bear the using of them. 
 
 I should now come to give the description of the day- 
 labourer (of whom we have only a dearth in a plentiful 
 harvest), but seeing his cliaracter is so coincident with the 
 hired servant, it may well be spared. And now we will 
 rise from the hand to the arm, and come to describe the 
 soldier. 
 
 XXXV.— The Good Soldier. 
 
 A SOLDIER is one of a lawful, necessary, commend- 
 able, and honourable profession ; yea, God himself 
 may seem to be one free of the company of soldiers, in that 
 he styleth himself a man of war. Now, though many hate 
 soldiers as the twigs of the rod war, wherewith God scourgeth 
 wanton countries into repentance, yet is their calling so need- 
 ful, that were not some soldiers, we must be all soldiers, 
 daily employed to defend our own, the world would grow 
 so licentious. 
 
 1. He keepetk a clear and quiet comcience in his breast, 
 which otherwise will gnaw out the roots of all valour ; for 
 vicious soldiers are compassed with enemies on all sides, 
 their foes without them, and an ambush within them of fleshly 
 lusts, which, as St. Peter ?,d^\\h, fight against the soul. None 
 fitter to go to war than those who have made their peace 
 with God in Christ; for such a man's soul is an impregnable 
 fort : it cannot be scaled with ladders, for it reacheth up to 
 heaven ; nor be broken by batteries, for it is walled with 
 brass ; nor undermined by pioneers, for he is founded on a 
 rock ; nor betrayed by treason, for faith itself keeps it ; nor 
 be burnt by grenades, for he can quench the fiery darts of 
 the devil ; nor be forced by famine, for a good conscience is 
 a continual feast. 
 
 2. He chiefiy avoids those sins to which soldiers are taxed 
 as most subject. Namely^ common swearmg, which im- 
 paireth one's credit by degrees, and maketh all his promises 
 
 H 
 
&8 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 not to be trusted ; for he who for no profit will sin against 
 God, for small profit will trespass against his neighbour. 
 Drinking, whoring. When valiant Zisca, near Pilsen in Bo- 
 hemia, fought against his enemies, he commanded the women 
 who followed his army to cast their kerchiefs and partlets 
 on the oTound, wherein their enemies being entangled by their 
 spurs (for though horsemen, they were forced to alight and 
 fight on foot, through the roughness of the place), were slain 
 before they could unloose their feet.* A deep moral may be 
 gathered hence, and women have often been the nets to catch 
 and ensnare the souls of many martial men. 
 
 3. He counts hh princes laxcful command to he his sufficient 
 icm-rant to Jight. In a defensive war, when his country is 
 hostilely invaded, f it is pity but his neck should hang in sus- 
 pense with his conscience that doubts to fight ; in offensive 
 war, though the case be harder, the common soldier is not to 
 dispute, but do his prince's command.]: Otherwise princes, 
 before they levy an army of soldiers, must first levy an army 
 of casuists and confessors, to satisfy each scrupulous soldier 
 in point of right to the war ; and the most cowardly will be 
 the most conscientious, to multiply doubts eternally. Be- 
 sides, causes of war are so complicated and perplexed, so 
 many things faUing in the prosecution, as may alter the 
 original state thereof, and private soldiers have neither calling: 
 nor ability to dive into such mysteries. But if the conscience 
 of a counsellor or commander-in-chief remonstrates in him- 
 self the unlawfulness of this war, he is bound humbly to 
 represent to his prince his reasons against it. 
 
 4. He esteemeth all hardship easy through hopes of victory. 
 IMoneys are the sinews of war, yet if these sinews should 
 chance to be shrunk, and pay casually fall short, he takes a 
 fit of this convulsion patiently ; he is contented, though in 
 cold weatlier his hands must be their own fire, and warm 
 themselves with working ; though he be belter armed against 
 their enemies than the weather, and his corslet whoUer than 
 his clothes ; though he hath more fasts and vigils in his 
 almanack than the Romish church did ever enjoin : he pa- 
 
 * Fox, Acts and Monum. p. 646. 
 
 t *' Inpublicos hostes omnis homo miles." — Tert. Apol.cap. 2. 
 + Amesin's Cas. Conscien. lib. 5. cap. 33. 
 
THE GOOD SOLDIER. 99 
 tiently endureth drought for desire of honour, and one thirst 
 quencheth another. In a word, though much indebted to his 
 own back and belly, and unable to pay them, yet he hath 
 credit himself, and confidently runs on ticket with himself, 
 hoping the next victory will discharge all scores with advan- 
 tage. 
 
 5. He looks at and also through his wages at God's glory, 
 and his country'' s good. He counts his pay an honourable 
 addition, but no valuable compensation for his pains : for 
 what proportion is there betwixt four shillings a week, and 
 adventuring his life? I cannot see how their calling can be 
 lawful, who for greater wages will fight on any side, against 
 their own king and cause ; yea, as false witnesses were hired 
 against our blessed Saviour * (money will make the mouths 
 of men plead against their Maker), so, were the giants now in 
 the world, who, as the poets feigned, made war against God 
 himself, and should they offer great pay, they would not want 
 mercenary soldiers to assist them. 
 
 6. He attends with all readiness on the commands of the 
 general ; rendering up his own judgment in obedience to the 
 will and pleasure of his leader, and by an implicit faith be- 
 lieving all is best which he enjoineth ; lest otherwise he be 
 served as the French soldier was in Scotland some eighty 
 years since, who first mounted the bulwark of a fort besieged, 
 whereupon ensued the gaining of the fort : but Mareschal de 
 Thermesjf the French general, first knighted him, and then 
 hanged him within an hour after, because he had done it 
 without commandment. 
 
 7. He will not in a bravery expose himself to needless peril. 
 It is madness to halloo in the ears of sleeping temptation, to 
 awaken it against one's self, or to go out of his calling to find 
 a danger : but if a danger meets him as he walks in his 
 vocation, he neither stands still, starts aside, nor steps back- 
 ward, but either goes over it with valour, or under it with 
 patience. All single duels he detesteth, as having first no 
 command in God's word ; yea, this arbitrary deciding causes 
 by the sword subverts the fundamental laws of the Scripture : 
 secondly, no example in God's word, that of David and 
 
 * jMatt. xxviii. 15. 
 
 t Hollman, in his book of the Ambassador. 
 
100 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Goliath moving in a higher sphere, as extraordinary : thirdly, 
 it tempts God to work a miracle for man's pleasure, and to 
 invert the course of nature, whereby otherwise the stronger 
 will beat the weaker : fourthly, each dueller challengeth his 
 king as unable or unwilling legally to right him, and therefore 
 he usurps the office himself: fifthly, if slaying, he hazards his 
 neck to the halter ; if slain, in heat of malice, without repen- 
 tance, he adventures his soul to the devil. 
 
 Object. But there are some intricate cases, as in titles of 
 land, w'hich cannot otherwise be decided. Seeing, there- 
 fore, that in such difficulties the right in question cannot 
 be delivered by the midwifery of any judicial proceedings, 
 then it must (with Juhus Caesar in his mother's belly) be 
 cut out and be determined by the sword. 
 
 Ansiv. Such a right may better be lost than to light a 
 candle from hell to find it out, if the judges cannot find a 
 middle way to part it betwixt them. Besides, in such a 
 case, duels are no medium proportionatum to find out the 
 truth, as never appointed by God to that purpose. Nor 
 doth it follow that he hath the best in right who hath the 
 best in fight ; for he that reads the lawfulness of actions by 
 their events, holds the wrong end of the book upwards. 
 
 Object. But suppose an army of thirty thousand infidels 
 ready to fight against ten thousand Christians, yet so that 
 at last the infidels are contented to try the day upon the 
 valour of a single champion ; whether in such a case may 
 not a Christian undertake to combat with him, the rather 
 because the treble odds before is thereby reduced to terms 
 of equality, and so the victory is made more probable. 
 
 Ansio. The victory was more probable before ; because 
 it is more likely God will bless his own means than means 
 of man's appointing : and it is his prerogative to give 
 victory as well by few as by many. Probability of con-» 
 quest is not to be measured by the eye of human reason, 
 contrary to the square of God's word. Besides, I question 
 whether it be lawful for a Christian army to derive their 
 right of fighting God's battles to any single man. For the 
 title every man hath to promote God's glory, is so invested 
 and inherent in his own particular person, that he cannot 
 pass it over to another. None may appear in God's ser- 
 vice by an attorney; and when religion is at the stake, 
 
THE GOOD SOLDIER. 101 
 there must be no lookers-on, except impotent people, who 
 also help by their prayers, and every one is bound to lay 
 his shoulders to the work. Lastly, would to God no duels 
 might be fought till this case came into question! But 
 how many daily fall out upon a more false, slight, and 
 flitting ground than the sands of Calais whereon they fight : 
 especially, seeing there is an honourable court appointed, 
 or some other equivalent way, for taking up such quarrels, 
 and allowing reparations to the party injured. 
 
 Object. But reputation is so spiritual a thing it is in- 
 estimable, and honour falls not under valuation : besides, 
 to complain to the civil magistrate sheweth no manhood, 
 but is like a child's crying to his father, when he is only 
 beaten by his equal ; and my enemies' forced acknowledg- 
 ment of his fault, enjoined him by the court, shews rather 
 his submission to the laws than to me. But if I can 
 civilize his rudeness by my sword, and chastise him into 
 submission, then he sings his penitential song in tlie true 
 tune, and it comes naturally indeed. 
 
 Answ. Honourable persons in that court are the most 
 competent judges of honour, and though credit be as tender 
 as the apple of the eye, yet such curious oculists can cure 
 a blemish therein. And why, I pray, is it more disgrace 
 to repair to the magistrate for redress in reputation, than 
 to have recourse to him in actions of trespass ? The pre- 
 tence of a forced submission is nothing, all submissions 
 having aliquid violentum in them ; and even the evangeli- 
 cal repentance of God's servants hath a mixture of legal 
 terror frightening them thereto. 
 
 Object. But gownmen speak out of an antipathy they 
 bear to fighting: should we be ruled by them, we must 
 break all our swords into penknives; and lawyers, to 
 enlarge their gains, send prohibitions to remove suits from 
 the camps to their courts : divines are not to be consulted 
 with herein, as ignorant of the principles of honour, 
 
 Answ. Indeed, honour is a word of course in the talk 
 of roaring boys, and pure enough in itself, except their 
 mouths soil it by often using of it ; but indeed God is the 
 fountain of honour, God's word the charter of honour, and 
 godly men the best judges of it; nor is it any stain of 
 cowardliness for one to fear hell and damnation. 
 
102 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 We may therefore conclude that the laws of duelling, as 
 the laws of drinking, had their original from the devil ; and 
 therefore the declining of needless quarrels in our soldier, 
 no abatement of honour. I commend his discretion and 
 valour, who, walking in London streets, met a gallant, who 
 cried to him a pretty distance beforehand, I will have the 
 wall. Yea, answered he, and take the house too, if you can 
 but agree with the landlord. But when God and his prince 
 calls for him, our soldier 
 
 8. Hud rather die ten tiines- than once survive his credit. 
 Though life be sweet, it shall not flatter the palate of his soul, 
 as with the sweetness of life to make him swallow down the 
 bitterness of an eternal disgrace : he begrudgeth not to get to 
 his side a probability of victory by the certainty of his own 
 death, and flieth from nothing so much as from the mention 
 of flying. And though some say he is a madman that will 
 purchase honour so dearly with his blood, as that he cannot 
 live to enjoy what he hath bought ; ov^v soldier knows that 
 he shall possess the reward of his valour with God in heaven, 
 and also, making the world his executor, leave to it the rich 
 inheritance of his memory. 
 
 9. Yet in soyne cases he counts it no disgrace to yield, where 
 it is impossible to conquer ; as when swarms of enemies crowd 
 about him, so that he shall rather be stifled than wounded to 
 death : in such a case if quarter be offered him, he may take 
 it with more honour than the other can give it; and if he 
 throws up his desperate game, he may happily win the next, 
 whereas, if he playeth it out to the last, he shall certainly lose 
 it and himself. But if he be to fall into the hand of a bar- 
 barous enemy, whose giving him quarter is but reprieving 
 him for a more ignominious death, he had rather disburse 
 his life at the present, than to take day to fall into the hands 
 of such remorseless creditors. 
 
 10. He makes none the object of his cruelty, who cannot 
 be the object of his fear. Lions, they say, except forced with 
 hunger, will not prey on women and children,* though I 
 would wish none to try the truth hereof: the truly valiant 
 will not hurt women or infants, nor will they be cruel to old 
 men. What conquest is it to strike him up who stands but 
 
 * Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 8. cap. 16. 
 
THE GOOD SOLDIER. 103 
 on one leg, and hath the other foot in the grave? But arrant 
 cowards, such as would conquer victory itself if it should 
 stand in their way as they fly, count themselves never evenly 
 matched except they have threefold odds on their side, and 
 esteem their enemy never disarmed till they be dead. Such 
 love to shew a nature steeped in gall of passion, and display 
 the ignoble tyranny of prevailing dastards : these being thus 
 valiant against no resistance, will make no resistance when 
 they meet with true valour. 
 
 1 1 . He counts it murder to kill any in cold blood. Indeed 
 in taking cities by assault, especially when soldiers have 
 suffered long in a hard siege, it is pardonable what present 
 passion doth with a sudden thrust; but a premeditated back- 
 blow in cold blood is base. Some excuse there is for blood 
 enraged, and no wonder if that scaldeth which boileth : but 
 when men shall call a consultation in their soul, and issue 
 thence a deliberate act, the more advised the deed is the less 
 advised it is when men raise their own passions, and are not 
 raised by them, especially if fair quarter be first granted ; an 
 alms which he who gives to-day may crave to-morrow, yea, 
 he that hath the hilt in his hand in the morning, may have 
 the point at his throat ere night. 
 
 12. He doth not barbarously abuse the bodies of his dead 
 enemies. We find that Hercules was the first (the most valiant 
 are ever the most merciful) that ever suffered his enemies to 
 carry away their dead bodies after they had been put to the 
 sword.* Belike before his time they cruelly cut the corpses 
 in pieces, or cast them to the wild beasts. 
 
 13. In time oj' plenty he provides for want hereafter. Yet 
 generally soldiers, as if they counted one treasurer in an 
 army were enough, so hate covetousness that they cannot 
 affect providence for the future, and come home with more 
 marks in their bodies than pence in their pockets. 
 
 14. He is willing and joyful to embrace peace on good con- 
 ditions. The procreation of peace, and not the satisfying of 
 men's lusts and liberties, is the end of war. Yet how many, 
 having war for their possession, desire a perpetuity thereof. 
 Wiser men than King Henry the Eighth's fool use to cry in 
 fair weather, whose harvest being only in storms, they them- 
 
 * Plutarch, in Vita Thesei, p. 15. 
 
104 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 selves desire to raise them ; wherefore fearing peace will starve 
 
 whom war hath fatted, and to render themselves the more 
 
 useful, they prolong discord to the utmost, and could wish 
 
 when swords are once drawn that all scabbards might be cut 
 
 asunder. 
 
 15. He is as quiet and painful in peace as courageous in 
 iLHir. If he hath not gotten already enough whereon com- 
 fortably to subsist, he rebetakes himself to his former calling 
 he had before the war began : the wielding of his sword hath 
 not made him unwieldy to do any other work, and put his 
 bones out of joint to take pains. Hence comes it to pass, 
 that some take by-courses on the highways, and death, which 
 they honourably sought for in the field, meets them in a worse 
 place. 
 
 But we leave our soldier, seeking by his virtues to ascend 
 from a private place, by the degrees of sergeant, lieutenant, 
 captain, colonel, till he come to be a general, and then in the 
 next book, God willing, you shall have his example. 
 
 XXXVI.— The Good Sea Captain. 
 
 HIS military part is concurrent with that of the soldier 
 already described : he differs only in some sea proper- 
 ties, which we will now set down. Conceive him now in a 
 man-of-war, with his letters of mart, well armed, victualled, 
 and appointed, and see how he acquits himself. 
 
 1. The more power he hath, the more careful he is not to 
 abuse it. Indeed, a sea captain is a king in the island of a 
 ship, supreme judge, above appeal, in causes civil and crimi- 
 nal, and is seldom brought to an account in courts of justice 
 on land for injuries done to his ovm men at sea. 
 
 2. He is careful i7i observing of the Lord's day. He hath 
 a watch in his heart, though no bells in a steeple to proclaim 
 that day by ringing to prayers. Sir Francis Drake, in three 
 years sailing about the world, lost one whole day, which was 
 scarce considerable in so long time.* It is to be feared some 
 captains at sea lose a day every week, one in seven, neglect- 
 ing the Sabbath. 
 
 3. He is as pious and thankful when a tempest is past, as 
 
 * Maauscr. of Mr. Fortescue, who went with him. 
 
GOOD SEA CAPTAIN. 105 
 devout when it is present : not clamorous to receive mercies, 
 ^ and tongue-tied to return thanks. Many mariners are calm in 
 \ a storm, and storm in a calm, blustering with oaths. In a 
 tempest, it comes to their turn to be religious whose piety is 
 but a fit of the wind, and when that is allayed, their devotion 
 is ended. 
 
 4. Escaping jnany dangers makes him not j)7^esumptuous to 
 run into them. Not like those seamen who, as if their hearts 
 were made of those rocks they have often sailed by, are so 
 always; in death they never think of it. These, in their navi- 
 gations, observe that it is far hotter under the tropics in the 
 commg to the line, than under the line itself ; and in like 
 manner they conceive that the fear and fancy in preparing 
 for death is more terrible than death itself, which makes them 
 by degrees desperately to contemn it. 
 
 5. In taking a prize he most prizeth the mens lives whom 
 he takes ; though some of them may chance to be negroes or 
 savages. It is the custom of some to cast them overboard, 
 and there is an end of them : for the dumb fishes will tell no 
 tales. But the murder is not so soon drowned as the men. 
 What ! is a brother by half-blood no kin ? A savage hath God 
 to his father by creation, though not the church to his mother, 
 and God will revenge his innocent blood. But our captain 
 counts the image of God nevertheless his image cut in ebony 
 as if done in ivory, and in the blackest Moors he sees the 
 representation of the King of heaven. 
 
 6. In dividing the gains he wrongs none who took pains to 
 get them. Not shifting off his poor mariners with nothing, or 
 giving them only the garbage of the prize, and keeping all the 
 flesh to himself. In time of peace he quietly returns home, 
 and turns not to the trade of pirates, who are the worst sea 
 vermin, and the devil's water-rats. 
 
 7. His voyages are not only for profit, but some for honour 
 and knowledge ; to make discoveries of new countries, imita- 
 ting the worthy Christ. Columbus. Before his time the world 
 was cut off at the middle ; Hercules's Pillars, which indeed 
 are the navel, being made the feet and utmost bounds of the 
 continent, till his successful industry enlarged it. 
 
 Primus ah infusis quod terra emerscrat undis 
 Nuncius adveniens ipsa Columhafuit. 
 
106 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Occiduis primus qui terrain invenit in undis 
 Nuncius adveniens ipse Columbus erat* 
 
 Our sea captain is likewise ambitious to perfect what the 
 other began. He counts it a disgrace, seeing all mankind is 
 one family, sundry countries but several rooms, that we who 
 dwell in the parlour (so he counts Europe) should not know 
 the outlodgings of the same house, and the world be scarce 
 acquainted with itself before it be dissolved from itself at the 
 day of judgment. 
 
 8. He daily sees and duly considers God's wonders in the 
 deep. Tell me, ye naturalists, who sounded the first march 
 and retreat to the tide. Hither shalt thou come, and no fur- 
 ther? Why doth not the water recover his right over the 
 earth, being higher in nature ? Whence came the salt, and"* 
 who first boiled it, which made so much brine? When the 
 winds are not only wild in a storm, but even stark mad in a 
 hurricane, who is it that restores them again to their wits, 
 and brings them asleep in a calm? Who made the mighty 
 whales, who swim in a sea of water, and have a sea of oil 
 swimming in them ? Who first taught the water to imitate 
 the creatures on land, so that the sea is the stable of horse- 
 fishes, the stall of kine-fishes, the stye of hog-fishes, the 
 kennel of dog-fishes, and in all things the sea the ape of the 
 land ? Whence grows the ambergris in the sea, which is not 
 so hard to find w^iere it is, as to know what it is ? Was not 
 God the first shipwright, and all vessels on the water des- 
 cended from the loins, or ribs rather, of Noah's ark ? Or else 
 who durst be so bold, with a few crooked boards nailed 
 together, a stick standing upright, and a rag tied to it, to ad- 
 venture into the ocean ? What loadstone first touched the 
 loadstone ; or how first fell it in love with the north, rather 
 affecting that cold climate, than the pleasant east, or fruitful 
 south or west ? How comes that stone to know more than 
 men, and find the way to the land in a mist ? In most of these 
 men take sanctuary at occulta quuliias, and complain that 
 the room is dark when their eyes are blind. Indeed they are 
 God's wonders, and that seaman the greatest wonder of aU 
 for his blockishness, who, seeing them daily, neither takes 
 notice of them, admires at them, nor is thankful for them. 
 
 * Gen. viii. 11. 
 
107 
 
 XXXVII. — The Life of Sir Francis Drake. 
 
 FRANCIS Drake was bom nigh South Tavistock in 
 Devonshire, and brought up in Kent ; * God dividing 
 the honour betwixt two counties, that the one might have 
 his birth, and the other his education. His father, being a 
 minister, fled into Kent for fear of the Six Articles, wherein the 
 sting of popery still remained in England, though the teeth 
 thereof were knocked out, and thepope's supremacy abolished. 
 Coming into Kent, he bound his son Francis apprentice to the 
 master of a small bark, which traded into France and Zealand, 
 where he underwent a hard service ; and pains with patience 
 in his youth did knit the joints of his soul, and made them 
 more solid and compacted. His master dying unmarried, in re- 
 ward of his industry bequeathed his bark unto him for a legacy . 
 
 For some time he continued his master's profession. But 
 the narrow seas were a prison for so large a spirit, born for 
 greater undertakings. He soon grew weary of his bark, which 
 would scarce go alone, but as it crept along by the shore ; 
 wherefore, selling it, he unfortunately, in 1567, ventured most 
 of his estate with Capt. John Hawkins into the West Indies, 
 whose goods were taken by the Spaniards at St. John de Ulva, 
 and he himself scarce escaped with life. The king of Spa^n 
 being so tender in those parts, that the least touch doth wound 
 him, and so jealous of the West Indies, his wife, that willingly 
 he would have none look upon her, and therefore used them 
 with the greater severity. 
 
 Drake was persuaded by the minister of his ship that he 
 might lawfully recover in value of the king of Spain, and re- 
 pair his losses upon him anywhere else. The case was clear 
 in sea-divinity, and few are such infidels as not to believe 
 doctrines which make for their own profit. Whereupon 
 Drake, though a poor private man, hereafter undertook to re- 
 venge himself on so mighty a monarch ; who, as not contented 
 that the sun riseth and setteth in his dominions, may seem to 
 desire to make all his own where he shineth. And now let 
 us see how a dwarf, standing on the mount of God's provi- 
 dence, may prove an overmatch for a giant. 
 
 * Sir Francis Drake, his nephew, in the Description of his 
 Third Voyage ; Epistle to the Reader. 
 
108 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 After two or three several voyages to gain intelligence in 
 the West Indies, and some prizes taken, at last he effectually 
 set forward from Plymouth with two ships, the one of seventy, 
 the other twenty-five tons, and seventy-three men and boys 
 in both. He made with all speed and secrecy to Norabre de 
 Dios, as loth to put the towTi to too much charge, which he 
 knew they would willingly bestow, in providing beforehand 
 for his entertainment ; which city was then the granary of the 
 West Indies, wherein the golden harvest brought from Panama 
 was hoarded up till it could be conveyed into Spain. They 
 came hard aboard the shore, and lay quiet all night, intending 
 to attempt the town in the dax^Tiing of the day. 
 
 But he was forced to alter his resolution, and assault it 
 sooner ; for he heard his men muttering amongst themselves 
 of the strength and gi'eatness of the town : and when men's 
 heads are once flyblown %vith buzzes of suspicion, the vermin 
 multiply instantly, and one jealousy begets another. Where- 
 fore he raised them fi-om their nests before they had hatched 
 their fears, and, to put away those conceits, he persuaded them 
 it was day-dawning when the moon rose, and instantly set on 
 the town, and won it, being unwalled. In the market-place 
 tlie Spaniai'ds saluted them with a volley of shot ; Drake re- 
 turned their greeting with a flight of arrows, the best and 
 ancient English compliment, which drove tlieir enemies away. 
 Here Drake received a dangerous wound, though he valiantly 
 concealed it a long time, knowing if his heart stooped, his 
 men's would fall, and loth to leave ofl" the action, wherein if 
 so bright an opportunity once setteth it seldom riseth again. 
 But at length his men forced him to return to his ship, that 
 his wound might be dressed, and this unhappy accident de- 
 feated the whole design. Thus victor}- sometimes slips through 
 their fingers, who have caught it m their hands. 
 
 But his valour would not let him give over the project as 
 long as there was eitlier life or warmth in it. And therefore 
 having received intelligence from the negroes, called Symerons, 
 of many mules' lading of gold and silver, which was to be 
 brought fi-om Panama, he, leaving competent numbers to man 
 his ships, went on land with the rest, and bestowed himself 
 in the woods by the way as they were to pass, and so inter- 
 cepted and carried away an infinite mass of gold. As for 
 the silver, which was not portable over tlie mountains, tliey 
 digged holes in the ground and hid it therein . 
 
LIFE OF SIR F. DRAKE. 109 
 There want not those who love to beat down the price of 
 every honourable action, though they themselves never mean 
 to be chapmen. These cry up Drake's fortune herein, to cry 
 down his valour ; as if this his performance were nothing, 
 wherein a golden opportunity ran his head, with his long fore- 
 lock, into Drake's hands beyond expectation. But certainly 
 his resolution and unconquerable patience deserved much 
 praise, to adventure on such a design, which had in it just no 
 more probability than what was enough to keep it from being 
 impossible : yet I admire not so much at all the treasure he 
 took, as at the rich and deep mine of God's providence. 
 
 Having now full freighted himself with wealth, and burnt 
 at the House of Crosses above two hundred thousand pounds 
 worth of Spanish merchandise, he returned with honour and 
 safety into England, and some years after undertook that his 
 famous voyage about the world, most accurately described by 
 our Enghsh authors:* and yet a word or two thereof will 
 not be amiss. 
 
 Setting forward from Plymouth, he bore up for Cape Verd , 
 where, near to the island of St. Jago, he took prisoner Nuno 
 da Silva, an experienced Spanish pilot, whose direction he 
 used in the coasts of Brazil and Magellan straits, and after- 
 wards safely landed him at Guatulco in New Spain. Hence 
 they took their course to the island of Brava, and hereabouts 
 they met with those tempestuous winds, whose only praise is, 
 that they continue not an hour, in which time they change all 
 the points of the compass. f Here they had great plenty of 
 rain, poured, not as in other places, as it were out of sieves, 
 but as out of spouts, so that a butt of water falls down in a 
 place : which, notwithstanding, is but a courteous injury in 
 that hot climate far from land, and where otherwise fresh 
 water cannot be provided : then, cutting the line, they saw 
 the face of that heaven which earth hideth from us, but therein 
 only three stars of the first greatness ;| the rest few and small 
 compared to our hemisphere, as if God, on purpose, had set 
 up the best and biggest candles in that room wherein his 
 civilest guests are entertained. 
 
 * December 13, 1577. 
 
 t ^lanusc. of Geor. Forteseue, who went tlxe yoyage with 
 Sir Francis Drake. 
 
 ; Camb. Eliz. anno 1580, p. 523. 
 
110 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Sailing the south of Bra2il, he afterwards passed the Ma- 
 gellan straits,* and then entered Mare P acific urn, ciime to the 
 southernmost land at tlie height of 55^" latitude ; thence di- 
 recting his course northward, he pillaged many Spanish towns, 
 and took rich prizes of hish value in the kingdoms of Chili, 
 Peru, and New Spain. Then bending eastwards, he coasted 
 China and the ^Moluccas, where, by the king of Terrenate, a 
 true gentleman pagan, he was most honourably entertained. 
 Tlie king told them they and he were all of one religion in 
 tliis respect, that they believed not in gods made of stocks 
 and stones as did tlie Portuguese. t He furnished tliem also 
 vrilh all necessaries that Uiey wanted. 
 
 On the 9th of Januaiy followinor (1579), his ship, having 
 a large wind and a smooth sea, ran aground on a dangerous 
 shoal, and struck twice on it, knocking t^ice at the door of 
 death, which no doubt had opened th.e third time. Here 
 they stuck from eight o'clock at night till four the next after- 
 noon,+ having ground too much, and yet too little to land ou, 
 and water too much, and yet too little to sail in. Had God, 
 who, as the wise man saith (Prov. xxx. 4), holdeth the winds 
 in his fist, hut opened his little finger, and let out the smallest 
 blast, tliey had undoubtedly been cast away, but there blew 
 not any wind all the while. Then they conceiving aright 
 that tlie best way to lighten the ship was first to ease it of 
 the burthen of their sins by true repentance, humbled them- 
 selves by fasting under the hand of God. Afterwards they 
 receivetl the communion, dining on Christ in the sacrament, 
 expecting no other than to sup witli liim in heaven. Then 
 they cast out of their ship six great pieces of ordnance, threw 
 overboard as much wealth as would break the heart of a 
 miser to tliink on it, witli much sugar, and packs of spices, 
 making a caudle of the sea round about. Then they betook 
 themselves to their prayers, the best lever at such a dead lift 
 indeed, and it pleased God that the wind, formerly their mor- 
 tal enemy, became their friend, which, changing from the 
 starboard to the larboard of the sliip, and rising by degrees, 
 cleared them off to the sea again, for which they returned 
 unfeigned thanks to Almiuhty God. 
 
 * August '20, 1578. 
 
 t jNIanus. Geor. Fortescue. 
 
 t Hacluit's Voyage, vol. iii. p. 741. 
 
LIFE OF SIR F. BRAKE. Ill 
 
 By the Cape of Good Hope and west of Africa he returned 
 safe into England, and landed at Plymouth,* being almost the 
 first of those that made a thorough light through the world, 
 having in his whole voyage, though a curious searcher after 
 the time, lost one day through the variation of several cli- 
 mates. He feasted the queen in his ship at Dartford, who 
 knighted him for his service : yet it grieved him not a little, 
 that some prime courtiers refused the gold he offered them, 
 as gotten by piracy. f Some of them would have been loth 
 to have been told that they had aurum tholosanum in their 
 own purses. Some think that they did it to shew that their 
 envious pride was above their covetousness, who of set pur- 
 pose did blur the fair copy of his performance, because they 
 would not take pains to write after it. 
 
 I pass by his next West Indian voyage (1585), wherein he 
 took the cities of St. Jago, St. Domingo, Carthagena, and S.. 
 Augustine in Florida: as also his service performed in 1588, 
 wherein he, with many others, helped to the waning of that 
 half moon which sought to govern all the motion of our sea. 
 I haste to his last voyage in 1595. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth perceiving that the only way to make the 
 Spaniard a cripple for ever was to cut his sinews of war in 
 the West Indies, furnished Sir Francis Drake and Sir John 
 Hawkins with six of her own ships, besides twenty-one ships 
 and barks of their own providing, containing in all 2500 men 
 and boys, for some service on America. But, alas ! this voyage 
 was marred before begun. For so great preparations being 
 too big for a cover, the king of Spain knew of it, and sent a 
 caraval of adviso to the West Indies •,X so that they had intel- 
 ligence three weeks before the fleet set forth of England, * 
 either to fortify or remove their treasure ; whereas in other of 
 Drake's voyages not two of his own men knew whither he went ; 
 and managing such a design is like carrying a mine in war: 
 if it hath any vent, all is spoiled. Besides, Drake and Haw- 
 kins, being in joint commission, hindered each other. The 
 latter took himself to be inferior rather in success than skill ; 
 and the action was unlike to prosper, when neither would fol- 
 
 * November 3, 1580. 
 
 + Camb. Eliz. anno ut prius, p. 127. 
 
 I Hacluil's Voyage, vol. in. p. 583. 
 
112 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 low, and both could not handsomely go abreast. It vexed old 
 Hawkins that his counsel was not followed, in present sailing 
 to America, but that tliey -spent time in vain in assaulting the 
 Canaries ; and the grief that his advice was slighted, say 
 some, was the cause of his death. Others impute it to the 
 sorrow he took for the taking of his bark called the Francis, 
 which five Spanish frigates had intercepted. But when the 
 same heart hath two mortal wounds given it together, it is hard 
 to say which of them killeth. 
 
 Drake continued his course for Port Rico, and, riding 
 vriihin the road, a shot from the castle entered the steerage of 
 the ship, took away the stool from under him as he sat at 
 supper, wounded Sir Nicholas Chtibrd and Bmte Brown to 
 death. Ah dear Brute, said Drake, I could grieve for thee, 
 but now is no time for me to let down my spirits.* And in- 
 deed a soldier's most proper bemoaning a friend's death in 
 war is in revenging it. And sure, as if grief had made the 
 English furious, they soon after fired five Spanish ships of 
 two hundred tons apiece, in despite of the castle. 
 
 America is not unfitly resembled to an hour-glass, which 
 hath a narrow neck of land (suppose it the hole where the 
 sand passeth) betvvixt the parts thereof, Mexico and Peni. 
 Now, the English had a design to march by land over this 
 isthmus firom Port Rico to Panama, where the Spanish trea- 
 sure was laid up. Sir Thomas Baskei-vile, general of the 
 land forces, undertook the service with seven hundred and 
 fifty armed men. They marched through deep ways, the 
 Spaniards much anno\-ing tliem with shot out of the woods. 
 One fort in the passage they assaulted in vain, and heard two 
 others were built to stop tliem, besides Panama itself. They 
 had so much of this breakfast, they thought they should sur- 
 feit of a dinner and supper of the same. No ho; e of con- 
 quest, except with cloyiug the jaws of death, and thrusting 
 men on the mouth of the cannon. \Mierefore, fearing to find 
 the proverb true, that gold may be bought too dear, they 
 returned to their sliips. Drake afterwards fired Nombre de 
 Dios, and many other petty towns, whose treasure the Span- 
 iards had conveyed away, burning the empty casks, when 
 
 * From the n outh of lien. Drake. Esq. tl.ere preseat, my d^ar 
 and worthy parishioner lately deceased. 
 
LIFE OF SIR F. BRAKE. 113 
 their precious liquor was run out before, and then prepared 
 for their returning home. 
 
 Great was the difference betwixt the Indian cities now from 
 what they were when Drake first haunted these coasts. At 
 first the Spaniards here were safe and secure, counting their 
 treasure sufficient to defend itself, the remoteness thereof 
 being the greatest, almost only, resistance, and the fetching 
 of it more than the fighting for it. Whilst the king of Spain 
 guarded the head and heart of his dominions in Europe, he 
 left his long legs in America open to blows, till, finding them 
 to smart, being beaten black and blue by the English, he 
 learned to arm them at last, fortifying the most important of 
 them to make them impregnable. 
 
 Now began Sir Francis his discontent to feed upon him. 
 He conceived that expectation, a merciless usurer, comput- 
 ing each day since his departure, exacted an interest and 
 return of honour and profit proportionable to his great pre- 
 parations, and transcending his former achievements. He 
 saw that all the good which he had done in this voyage, con- 
 sisted in the evil he had done to the Spaniards afar off, 
 whereof he could present but small visible fruits in England. 
 These apprehensions accompanying, if not causing, the dis- 
 ease of the flux, wrought his sudden death.* And sickness 
 did not so much untie his clothes, as sorrow did rend at once 
 the robe of his mortality asunder. He lived by the sea, died 
 on it, and was buried in it. Thus an extempore performance, 
 scarce heard to be begun before we hear it is ended, comes 
 off with better applause, or miscarries with less disgrace, than 
 along studied and openly premeditated action. Besides, we 
 -see how great spirits, having mounted to the highest pitch of 
 performance, afterwards strain and break their credits in 
 striving to go beyond it. Lastly, God oftentimes leaves the 
 brightest men in an eclipse, to shew that they do but borrow 
 their lustre from his reflection. We vdll not justify all the 
 actions of any man, though of a tamer profession than a 
 sea captain, in whom civility is often counted preciseness. 
 For the main, we say that this our captain was a religious 
 man towards God and his houses, generally sparing churches 
 where he came, chaste in his life, just in his dealings, true of 
 
 ♦ January 28, 1.^95. 
 I 
 
114 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 his word, and merciful to those that were under him, hating 
 nothing so much as idleness. And therefore lest his soul 
 should rust, in peace at spare hours, he brought fresh water 
 to Plymouth. Careful he was for posterity, though men of 
 his profession have as well an ebb of riot as a float of for- 
 tune, and providently raised a worshipful family of his 
 kindred. In a word, should those that speak against him, 
 fast till they fetch their bread where he did his, they would 
 have a good stomach to eat it. 
 
 XXXVIIL— The Good Herald. 
 
 HE is a warden of the temple of honour. Mutual ne- 
 cessity made mortal enemies agree in these officers; 
 the lungs of Mars himself would be burnt to pieces having 
 no respiration in a truce. Heralds, therefore, were invented 
 to proclaim peace or war; deliver messages about summons 
 of forts, ransoming of captives, burying the dead, and the 
 like. 
 
 1. He is grave and faithful in discharging the service he is 
 employed in. The names which Homer gives the Grecian 
 Ceryces, excellently import their virtues in discharging their 
 office: one was called Asphalio, such a one as made sure 
 luork; another Eurybates. cunning and subtle ; a third The- 
 otes, from his piety and godliness ; a fourth Stentor, from his 
 loud and audible pronouncing of messages. Therefore of 
 every heathen sacrifice the tongue was cut out, and given to 
 the heralds, to shew that liberty of speech in all places was 
 allowed them.* 
 
 2. He embitters not a distasteful message to a foreign 
 prince by his indiscretion in delivering it. Commendable 
 was the gravity of Gaien, king of arms in France, and 
 Thomas Bevolt, clarenceux of England, sent by their several 
 princes to defy Charles the emperor. For leave demanded 
 and obtained to dehver the message with safe conduct to 
 their persons, they delivered the emperor the lie in writing, 
 and, defying him, were sent home safe with rewards. It 
 fared worse with a foolish French herald, sent from the 
 Count of Orgell to challenge combat with the Count of 
 Cardonna, admiral of Arragon ; where, instead of wearing 
 
 * Sir Heu. Spelman, Glossar. de Verbo Herald. 
 
THE GOOD HERALD. 115 
 his coat of arms, the herald was attired in a long linen gar- 
 ment, painted with some dishonest actions, imputed to the 
 said Count of Cardonna. But Ferdinand, king of Arragon, 
 caused the herald to be whipped naked through the streets of 
 Barcelona, as a punishment of his presumption.* Thus his 
 indiscretion remitted him to the nature of an ordinary person ; 
 his armour of proof of public credence fell off, and he left 
 naked to the stroke of justice, no longer a public officer, but 
 a private offender. Pass we now from his use in war, to his 
 employment in peace. 
 
 3. He is skilful in the pedigrees and descents of all ancieiit 
 gentry. Otherwise to be able only to blazon a coat, doth no 
 more make a herald, than the reading the titles of galUpots 
 makes a physician. Bring our herald to a monument, ubi 
 jacet epitapliium, and where the arms on the tomb are not 
 only crest-fallen, but their colours scarce to be discerned, 
 and he will tell whose they be if any certainty therein can be 
 rescued from the teeth of time. But how shameful was the 
 ignorance of the French heralds some forty years since,f 
 who, at a solemn entertainment of Queen Mary of Florence, 
 wife to Ring Henry the Fourth, did falsely devise and blazon 
 both the arms of Florence and the arms of the dauphin of 
 France, now king thereof. 
 
 4. He carefully preserveth the memories of extinguished 
 families, of such Zelophehads who, dying, left only daughters. 
 He is more faithful to many ancient gentlemen than their own 
 heirs were, who sold their lands, and with them, as much as 
 in them lay, their memories, which our herald carefully trea- 
 sure th up. 
 
 5. He i^estoreth many to their own rightful arms. An 
 heir is a phoenix in a family ; there can be but one of them at 
 the same time. Hence comes it often to pass, that younger 
 brothers of gentle families live in low ways, clouded often 
 amongst the yeomanry ; and yet those under boughs grow 
 from the same root with the top branches. It may happen 
 afterwards that by industry they may advance themselves to 
 their former lustre ; and good reason they should recover their 
 ancient ensigns of honour belonging unto them : for the river 
 
 * Span. Hist, in the Life of Feidmand. 
 
 t Andr. Favin, a Parisian advocate, in his Theatre of Honour, 
 book i. ciiap. 4. p. 35. 
 
llrt THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Anas in Spain, though running many miles under ground, 
 when it comes up again, is still the same river which it was 
 before. And yet, 
 
 6. He curbs their usurpation who uujuj^tli/ aititle themselves 
 to ancient houses. Hierophilus, a ferrier in Rome, pretended 
 himself to be nephew to C. Marius,* who had seven times 
 been consul, and carried it in so high a strain tliat many 
 believed him, and some companies in Rome accepted him 
 for their patron. Such want not among us, who in spite of 
 the stock will engraft themselves into noble bloods, and thence 
 derive their pedigree. Hence they new mould their names, 
 takmg from tliem, adding to them, melting out all the liquid 
 letters, torturing mutes to make diem speak, and making 
 vowels dumb to bring it to a fallacious homonomy at the 
 last, that their names may be the same with those noble 
 houses they pretend to. By this trick (to forbear dangerous 
 instances, if athnity of sound makes kindred) Lutulentus 
 makes himself kin to Luculentus, dirt to hght, and Augustus 
 to Augustus, some narrow-hearted peasant to some large- 
 spirited prince, except our good lierald mar their mart, and 
 discover their forgery. For well he knows where indeed the 
 names are the same (though altered through variety of vMnting 
 in several ages, and disguised by the lisping of vulgar people 
 who miscall hard French simames), and where the equivoca- 
 tion is untruly effected. 
 
 7. He assigns honourable arms to such as raise themselves 
 bi/ deserts. In all ages there must be as well a beginning of 
 new gentry, as an ending of ancient. And let not linea, 
 when far extended in length, grow so proud as to scorn the 
 first punctum which gave it the original. Our herald knows 
 also to cure the surfeit of coats, and unsurcharge them, and 
 how to wash out stained colours, when the merits of posterity 
 have outworn the disgraces of their ancestors. 
 
 8. He u ili not for atiy profit favour uealthy unworthiness. 
 If a rich clown, who deser\es tliat all his shield should be 
 th.e base point, shall repair to the herald office, as to a draper's 
 shop, wherein any coat may be bought for money, he quickly 
 finds himself deceived. No doubt if our herald gives him a 
 coat, he gives him also a badge with it. 
 
 * A'aler. Max. lib. 9. cap. 16. 
 
117 
 
 XXXIX.— The Life of Mr. W. Cambden. 
 
 WILLIAM Cambden was born anno 1550 in Old 
 Bailey, in the city of London. His father, Sampson 
 Cambden, was descended of honest parentage m Stafford- 
 shire ; but by his mother's side he was extracted from the 
 worshipful family of the Curvvens in Cumberland.* 
 
 He was brought up first in Christ's Church, then in Paul's 
 school in London, and at fifteen years of age went to Mag- 
 dalen College in Oxford, and thence to Broadgates Hall,f 
 where he first made those short Latin graces which the ser- 
 vitors still use. From hence he was removed, and made 
 student of Christ Church, where he profited to such eminency, 
 that he was preferred to be master of Westminster school, a 
 most famous seminary of learning. 
 
 For whereas before, of the two grand schools of England, 
 one sent all her foundation-scholars to Cambridge, the other 
 all to Oxford, the good queen, as the head, equally favouring 
 both breasts of learning and religion, divided her scholars 
 here betwixt both universities, w^hich were enriched with 
 many hopeful plants sent from hence, through Cambden's 
 learning, diligence, and clemency. Sure none need pity the 
 beating of that scholar, who would not learn without it under 
 so meek a master. 
 
 His deserts called him hence to higher employments. The 
 queen first made him Richmond herald, and then claren- 
 ceux king of arms. We read how Dionysius first king 
 of Sicily turned afterwards a schoolmaster in his old age. 
 Behold here Dionysius inverted, one that was a schoolmaster 
 in his youth, become a king (of arms) in his riper years, 
 which place none ever did or shall discharge with more integ- 
 rity. He was a most exact antiquary ; witness his worthy 
 work, which is a comment on three kingdoms ; and never 
 was so large a text more briefly, so dark a text more plainly 
 expounded. Yea, what a fair garment hath been made out 
 of the very shreds and remains of that greater work ? 
 
 * " A quibus nobis (absitinvidia) genus maternum." — Cambd. 
 Brit, in Cumber. 
 
 t Ex Parentatione Degorii Wheat. 
 
118 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 It is most worthy observation with what diligence lie in- 
 quired after ancient places, making hue and cry after many 
 a city which was run away, and by certain marks and tokens 
 pursuing to find it ; as by the situation on the Roman high- 
 ways,* by just distance from other ancient cities, by some 
 affinity of name, by tradition of the inhabitants, by Roman 
 coins digged up, and by some appearance of ruins. A bro- 
 ken urn is a whole evidence, or an old gate still surviving, 
 out of which the city is run out. Besides, commonly some 
 new spruce town, not far off, is grown out of the ashes 
 thereof, which yet hath so much natural affection, as duti- 
 fully to own those reverend ruins for her mother. 
 
 By these and other means he arrived at admirable know- 
 ledge, and restored Britain to herself. And let none tax him 
 for presumption in conjectures where the matter was doubt- 
 ful; for many probable conjectures have striken the fire, 
 out of which truth's candle hath been lighted afterwards. 
 Besides, conjectures, like parcels of unknown ore, are sold 
 but at low rates : if they prove some rich metal, the buyer 
 is a great gainer ; if base, no loser, for he pays for it ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 His candour and sweet temper were highly to be com- 
 mended, gratefully acknowledging those by whom he was 
 assisted in the work (in such a case confession puts the dif- 
 ference betwixt stealing and borrowing) ; and surely so heavy 
 a log needed more levers than one. He honourably men- 
 tioneth such as differ from him in opinion ; not like those 
 antiquaries who are so snarling, one had as good dissent a 
 mile as an hair's-breadth from them. 
 
 Most of the English ancient nobility and gentry he hath 
 impartially observed. Some indeed object that he claws and 
 flatters the grandees of his own age,t extolling some families 
 rather great than ancient, making them to flow from a far 
 fountain because they had a great channel, especially if his 
 private friends. But this cavil hath more of malice than 
 truth : indeed it is pity he should have a tongue, that hath 
 not a word for a friend on just occasion ; and justly might 
 the stream of his commendations run broader, where meeting 
 
 * Watline or Ermine-stieet. 
 
 t Hugh Holland, in the Life of the Earl of Leicester. 
 
LIFE OF CAMBDEN. 119 
 with a confluence of desert and friendship in the same party. 
 For the main, his pen is sincere and impartial, and they who 
 complain that Grantham steeple stands awry, will not set a 
 , straighter by it. 
 
 Some say that in silencing many gentle families, he makes 
 balks of as good ground as any he plougheth up. But 
 these again acquit him, when they consider that it is not only 
 difficult but impossible to anatomize the English gentry so 
 exactly, as to shew where every smallest vein thereof runs. 
 Besides, many houses, conceived to be by him omitted, are 
 rather rightly placed by him, not where they live, but whence 
 they came. Lastly, we may perceive that he prepared ano- 
 ther work on purpose for the English gentry. 
 
 I say nothing of his learned Annals of Queen Elizabeth, 
 industriously performed. His very enemies, if any, cannot 
 but commend him. Sure he was as far from loving popery 
 as from hating learning,* though that aspersion be general 
 on antiquaries ; as if they could not honour hoary hairs, but 
 presently themselves must doat. 
 
 His liberality to learning is sufficiently witnessed in his 
 founding of a History Professor in Oxford, to which he gave 
 the manor of Bexley in Kent, worth in present a hundred 
 and forty pounds, but, some years expired, four hundred 
 pounds per animm, so that he merited that distich. 
 
 Est tibi pro tumulo, Cumhden^ Britannia tota, 
 Oxonium vivens est epigramma tibi. 
 
 Tlie military part of his office he had no need to employ, 
 passing it most under a peaceable prince. But now having 
 lived many years in honour and esteem, death at last, even 
 contrary to jus gentium, killed this worthy herald, so that it 
 seems mortality, the law of nature, is above the law of arms. 
 He died anno 1623, the ninth of November, in the seventy- 
 fourth year of his age. 
 
 * These words he wrote in the beginning of his Testament : 
 " Christi solius mentis et satisfaction e spem omnem salutis meie 
 semper niti profiteor." 
 
 1 
 
120 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 XL. — The True Gentleman. 
 
 TT'^E will consider him in his birth, breeding, and beha- 
 * ^ viour. 
 
 1. He is extracted from ancient and icorshipful parentage. 
 When a pepin is planted on a pepin stock, the fruit gT0^ving 
 thence is called a renate,* a most delicious apple, as both by 
 sire and dam well descended. Tlius his blood must needs 
 be well purified who is gently born on botli sides. 
 
 2. If his birth be not, at least his qualities are generous. 
 What if he cannot with the Hevenninghams of Sutfolk count 
 five-and-twenty knights of his family, f or tell sixteen knights 
 successively with the Tilneys of Norfolk, * or with the Naun- 
 tons shew where their ancestors had seven hundred pounds a 
 year before or at the Conquest : § yet he hath endeavoured by 
 his own deserts to ennoble himself. Thus valour makes him 
 son to CiBsar; learning enthles him kinsman to Tully ; and 
 piety reports him nephew to godly Constantine. It graceth 
 a gentleman of low descent and high desert, when he vrill 
 own the meanness of his parentage. How ridiculous is it 
 when many men brae that their families are more ancient 
 than the moon, which all know are later than the star which 
 some seventy years since shined in Cassiopea ! But if he be 
 generously bom, see how his parents breed him. 
 
 3. He is not in his youth possessed with the great hopes of 
 his possession. No flatterer reads constantly in his ears a 
 survey of the lands he is to inherit. This hath made many 
 boys' thoughts swell so great, they could never be kept in 
 compass afterwards. Only his parents acquaint him that he 
 is the next undoubted heir to correction, if misbehaving him- 
 self: and he tinds no more favour from his schoolmaster than 
 his schoolmaster finds diligence in him, whose rod respects 
 persons no more than bullets are partial in a battle. 
 
 4. At the university he is so studious as i f he intended 
 learning for his profession. He knows well that cunning is 
 
 * Drayton's Polyolbion, p. 298. 
 
 f Weaver's Fun. Mon. p. 854. 
 
 ; Idem, p. 818. 5 Idem, p. 758. 
 
THE TRUE GENTLEMAN. 121 
 no burthen to carry, as paying neither porterage by land, nor 
 poundage by sea. Yea, though to have land be a good first, 
 yet to have learning is the surest second, which may stand to 
 it when the other may chance to be taken away. 
 
 5. At the inns of court he applies himself to learn the laws 
 o f the kingdom. Object not, why should a gentleman learn 
 law, who if he needeth it may have it for his money, and if 
 he have never so much of his own, he must but give it away? 
 For what a shame is it for a man of quality to be ignorant 
 of Solon in our Athens, of Lycurgus in our Sparta? Besides, 
 law will help him to keep his own, and bestead his neigh- 
 bours. Say not, that there be enough who make this their 
 set practice : for so there are also many masters of defence 
 by their profession ; and shall private men therefore learn no 
 skill at their weapons ? 
 
 As for the hospitality, the apparel, the travelling, the com- 
 pany, the recreations, the marriage of gentlemen, they are 
 described in several of the following chapters. A word or 
 two of his behaviour in the country. 
 
 6. He is courteous and affable to his neighbours. As the 
 sword of the best-tempered metal is most flexible, so the truly 
 generous are most pliant and courteous in their behaviour to 
 their inferiors. 
 
 7. He delights to see himself and his servants well mounted : 
 therefore he loveth good horsemanship. Let never any fo- 
 reign Rabshakeh send that brave to our Jerusalem, offering to 
 lend her two thousand horses, if she be able for her part to set 
 riders upon them.* We know how Darius got the Persian 
 empire from the rest of his fellow peers, by the first neighing 
 of his generous steed. It were no harm if in some needless 
 suits of intricate precedency betwixt equal gentlemen, the 
 priority were adjudged to him who keeps a stable of most 
 serviceable horses. 
 
 8. He furnisheth and prepareth himself in peace against 
 time of war ; lest it be too late to learn when his skill is to 
 be used. He approves himself courageous when brought to 
 the trial, as well remembering the custom which is used at the 
 creation of knights of the bath, wherein the king's master- 
 cook Cometh forth, and presenteth his great knife to the new- 
 
 * 2 Kings xviii. 23. 
 
122 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 made knights, admonishing them to be faithful and valiant, 
 otherwise he threatens them that that very knife is prepared 
 to cut off their spurs.* 
 
 9. If the commimon of the peace finds him out, he faith- 
 fully discharges it. I say, finds him out, for a public office 
 is a guest which receives the best usage from them who never 
 invited it. And though he declined the place, the country 
 knew to prize his worth, who would be ignorant of his own. 
 He compounds many petty differences betwixt his neighbours, 
 which are easier ended in his own porch than in Westmin- 
 ster Hall ; for many people tiiink if once they have fetched 
 a warrant from a justice, they have given earnest to follow 
 the suit, though otherwise the matter be so mean that the 
 next night's sleep would have bound both parties to the 
 peace, and made them as good friends as ever before. Yet, 
 
 10. He connives not at the smothering of punishable faults. 
 He hates that practice, as common as dangerous amongst 
 country people, who, having received again tiie goods which 
 were stolen from them, partly out of foolish pity, and partly 
 out of covetousness to save charges in prosecuting the law, 
 let the thief escape unpunished. Thus whilst private losses 
 are repaired, the wounds to the commonwealth, in the breach 
 of the laws, are left uncured ; and thus petty larceners are 
 encouraged into felons, and afterwards are hanged for pounds, 
 because never whipped for pence, who, if they had felt the 
 cord, had never been brought to the halter. 
 
 11. If chosen a member of parliament, he is loilling to do 
 his country service. If he be no rhetorician to raise affections 
 (yea. Mercury was a greater speaker than Jupiter himself), 
 he counts it great wisdom to be the good manager of yea and 
 nay. The slow pace of his judgment is recompensed by the 
 swift following of his affections, when his judgment is once 
 soundly informed. And here we leave him in consultation, 
 wishing him, with the rest of his honourable society, all happy 
 success. 
 
 * Mr. Selden, in his Titles of Honour, p. 820. 
 
123 
 
 XLI. — Of Hospitality. 
 
 HOSPITALITY is threefold; for one's family, this is of 
 necessity : for strangers^, this is courtesy : for the poor, 
 this is charity. Of the two latter. 
 
 1. To keep a disorderly house is the way to keep neither 
 house nor lands. For whilst they keep the greatest roaring, their 
 state steals away in the greatest silence. Yet when many 
 consume themselves with secret vices, then hospitality bears 
 the blame : whereas it is not the meat but the sauce, not 
 the supper but the gaming after it, doth undo them. 
 
 2. Measure not thy entertainment of a guest by his estate, 
 but thine own. Because he is a lord, forget not that thou art but 
 a gentleman: otherwise if with feasting him thou breakest 
 thyself, he will not cure thy rupture, and perchance rather 
 deride than pity thee. 
 
 3. When provision, as we say, groweth on the same, it is 
 miraculously multiplied. In Northamptonshire all the rivers of 
 the county are bred in it; besides those (Ouse and Chard- 
 well) it lendeth and sendeth into other shires. So the good 
 housekeeper hath a fountain of wheat in his field, mutton in 
 his fold, &c. both to serve himself and supply others. The 
 expense of a feast will but breathe him, which will tire another 
 of the same estate who buys all by the penny. 
 
 4. Mean men's palates are best pleased with fare rather 
 plentiful than various, solid than dainty.- Dainties will cost 
 more and content less, to those that are not critical enough to 
 distinguish them. 
 
 5. Occasional entertainment of men greater than thyself is 
 better than solemn inviting thein. Then short warning is thy 
 large excuse : whereas otherwise, if thou dost not overdo thy 
 estate, thou shalt underdo his expectation, for thy feast will be 
 but his ordinary fare. A king of France was often pleased, 
 in his hunting, wilfully to lose himself, to find the house of a 
 private park-keeper ; where going from the school of state- 
 affairs, he was pleased to make a play-day to himself. He 
 brought sauce (hunger) with him, which made coarse meat 
 dainties to his palate. At last the park-keeper took heart, and 
 solemnly invited the king to his house, who came with all his 
 court, so that all the man's meat was not a morsel for them. 
 
124 THE HOLY ST A TE. 
 
 Well, said the park-keeper, I will invite no more kings ; having 
 learnt the difference between princes when they please to put 
 on the vizard of privacy, and when they will appear like 
 themselves, both in their person and attendants. 
 
 6. Those are ripe for charity who are withered by age or 
 impotency. Especially if maimed in following their calling ; for 
 such are Industry's martyrs, at least her confessors. Add to 
 these, those that with diligence fight against poverty, though 
 neither conquer till death make it a drawn battle. Expect 
 not, but prevent, their craving of thee; for God forbid the 
 heavens should never rain till the earth first opens her mouth, 
 seeing some grounds will sooner burn than chap ! 
 
 7. The house of correction is the fittest hospital for those 
 cripples whose legs are lame through their own laziness. Surely 
 King Edward the Sixth was as truly charitable in granting 
 bridewell for the punishment of sturdy rogues, as in giving 
 St. Thomas's Hospital for the relief of the poor. I have done 
 with the subject, only I desire rich men to awaken hospitality, 
 which one saith, since the year 1572 hath in a manner been 
 laid asleep in the grave of Edward Earl of Derby.* 
 
 XLII. — Of Jesting. 
 
 HARMLESS mirth is the best cordial against the con- 
 sumption of the spirits : wherefore jesting is not un- 
 lawful if it trespasseth not in quantity, quality, or season. 
 
 1 . It is good to make a jest, hut not to make a trade of jest- 
 ing. The Earl of Leicester, knowing that Queen Elizabeth 
 was much delighted to see a gentleman dance well, brought 
 the master of a dancing-school to dance before her. Pish, 
 said the queen, it is his profession, I will not see him. She 
 liked it not where it was a master quality, but where it at- 
 tended on other perfections. The same may we say of jest- 
 ing. 
 
 2. Jest not icith the two-edged sword of God's word.\ 
 Will nothing please thee to wash thy hands in, but the font, 
 or to drink healths in, but the church chalice ? And know the 
 whole art is learnt at the first admission, and profane jests 
 
 * Cambd. Eliz. anno 1573. 
 
 X Ma^aipaj/ diaTOfibv. Heb. iv. 12. 
 
OF JESTING. 12.5 
 will come without calling. If in the troublesome days of King 
 Edward the Fourth, a citizen in Cheapside was executed as a 
 traitor for saying he would make his son heir to the crown,* 
 though he only meant his own house, having a crown for the 
 sign ; more dangerous it is to wit-wanton it with the majesty 
 of God. Wherefore, if without thine intention, and against 
 thy will, by chance-medley thou hittest Scripture in ordinary 
 discourse, yet fly to the city of refuge, and pray to God to 
 forgive thee. 
 
 3. Wanton jests make fools laugh, and wise men frown. 
 Seeing we are civilized Englishmen, let us not be naked savages 
 in our talk. Such rotten speeches are worst in withered age, 
 when men run after that sin in their words which flieth from 
 them in the deed. 
 
 4. Let not thy jests, like munmy, be made of dead mens 
 Jiesh. Abuse not any that are departed ; for to wrong their 
 memories is to rob their ghosts of their winding-sheets. 
 
 5. Scoff not at the natural defects of any which are not in 
 their power to amend. Oh it is cruelty to beat a cripple with 
 his own crutches ! Neither flout any for his profession, if 
 honest, though poor and painful. Mock not a cobbler for 
 his black thumbs. 
 
 6. He that relates another man's wicked jests with delight j 
 adopts them to be his own. Purge them therefore from their 
 poison. If the profaneness maybe severed from the wit, it is 
 like a lamprey ; take out the string in the back, it may make 
 good meat. But if the staple conceit consists in profaneness, 
 then it is a viper, all poison, and meddle not with it. 
 
 7. He that will lose his friend for a jest, desei^ves to die a 
 beggar by the bargain. Yet some think their conceits, like 
 mustard, not good except they bite. We read that all those 
 who were born in England the year after the beginning of the 
 great mortality 1349,t wanted their four cheek-teeth. Such 
 let thy jests be, that they may not grind the credit of thy friend^ 
 and make not jests so long till thou becomest one. 
 
 8. No time to break jests when the heart-strings are about 
 to he broken. No more shewing of wit when the head is to 
 be cut off, like that dying man, who, when the priest coming 
 
 * Speed, in Edward the Fourth, 
 t Tho. Walsingham, in eodem anno. 
 
126 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 to him to give him extreme unction, asked of him where his 
 feet were, answered, at the end of my legs. But at such a 
 time jests are an unmannerly crepitus ingenii. And let those 
 take heed who end iiere with Democritus, that they begin not 
 with Herachtus hereafter. 
 
 XLIII.— Of Self-Praising. 
 
 1. TTE whose own icorth doth speak, need not speak his 
 AX oii^fi worth. Such boasting sounds proceed from 
 emptiness of desert : whereas the conquerors in the Olympian 
 games did not put on the laurels on their own heads, but 
 waited till some other did it. Only anchorets that want com- 
 pany may crown themselves with their own commendations. 
 
 2. It sheweth more wit but no less vanity to commend one's 
 self] not in a strait line, but by reflection. Some sail to the 
 port of their own praise by a side wind ; as when they dis- 
 praise themselves, stripping themselves naked of what is their 
 due, that the modesty of the beholders may clothe them wnth 
 it again, or when they flatter another to his face, tossing the 
 ball to him that he may throw it back again to them ; or 
 when they commend that quality wherein themselves excel, in 
 another man, though absent, whom all know^ far their inferior 
 in that faculty; or lastly, to omit other ambushes men set to 
 surprise praise, when they send the children of their own 
 brain to be nursed by another man, and commend their own 
 works in a third person ; but if challenged by the company 
 that they were authors of them themselves, with their tongues 
 they faintly deny it, and with their faces strongly affirm it. 
 
 3. Self-praising comes most naturally from a man when 
 it comes most violently from him in his own defence. For 
 though modesty bindsaraan's tongue to the peace in this point, 
 yet being assaulted in his credit he may stand upon his guard, 
 and then he doth not so much praise as purge himself. One 
 braved a gentleman to his face, that in skill and valour he came 
 far behind him : It is true, said the other, Jo/- when I fought 
 with you, you ran away before me. In such a case, it was 
 well returned, and without any just aspersion of pride. 
 
 4. He that falls into sin, is a man ; that grieves at it, is a 
 saint ; that boasteth of it, is a devil. Yet some glory in 
 their shame, counting the stains of iin the best complexion 
 
OF SELF-PRAISING. 127 
 for their souls. These men make me believe it may be true 
 what Mandeville writes of the isle of Somabarre, in the East 
 Indies, that all the nobiUty thereof brand their faces with a 
 hot iron in token of honour. 
 
 5. He that boasts of sins neve?' committed, is a double devil. 
 Many brag how many gardens of virginity they have deflow- 
 ered, who n€ver came near the walls thereof, lying on those 
 with whom they did never lie, and with slanderous tongues 
 committing rapes on chaste women's reputations. Others, 
 who would sooner creep into a scabbard than draw a sword, 
 boast of their robberies, to usurp the esteem of valour. 
 Whereas first let them be well whipt for their lying, and as 
 they like that, let them come afterward and entitle themselves 
 to the gallows. 
 
 XLTV. — Of Travelling. 
 
 IT is a good accomplishment to a man, if first the stock be 
 well grown whereon travel is grafted, and these rules ob- 
 served before, in, and after his going abroad. 
 
 1 . Truveinot early before thy judgment be risen; lest thou 
 observest rather shows than substance, marking alone pa- 
 geants, pictures, beautiful buildings, &c. 
 
 2. Get the language, in part, without which key thou 
 shalt unlock little of moment. It is a great advantage to be 
 one's own interpreter. Object not that the French tongue 
 learnt in England must be unlearnt again in France; for it 
 is easier to add than begin, and to pronounce than to speak. 
 
 3. Be ice II settled in thine own religion, lest, travelling 
 out of England into Spain, thou goest out of God^s blessing 
 into the warm sun. They that go over maids for their reli- 
 gion, will be ravished at the sight of the first popish church 
 they enter into. But if first thou be well grounded, their 
 fooleries shall rivet thy faith the faster, and travel shall 
 give thee confirmation in that baptism thou didst receive at 
 home. 
 
 4. Know most of the rooms of thy native country before 
 thou goest over the threshold thereof Especially seeing 
 England presents thee with so many observables. But late 
 writers lack nothing but age, and home-wonders but distance, 
 to make them admired. It is a tale what Josephus writes of 
 
128 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 the two pillars set up by the sons of Seth in Syria, the one 
 of brick, fire-proof; the other of stone, water-fi'ee, thereon 
 engraving many heavenly matters to perpetuate learning in 
 defiance of time.* But it is truly moralized in our univer- 
 sities, Cambridge (of brick) and Oxford (of stone) wherein 
 learning and religion are preserved, and where the worst col- 
 lege is more sightvvorthy than the best Dutch gymnasium. 
 First view these, and the rest home rarities ; not like those 
 English that can give a better account of Fontainbleau than 
 Hampton Court, of the Spa than Bath, of Anas in Spain, 
 than Mole in Surrey. 
 
 5. Travel not beyond ihe Alps. Mr. Ascham did thank 
 God that he was but nine days in Italy,f wherein he saw in 
 one city (Venice) more liberty to sin, than in London he ever 
 heard of in nine years. That some of our gentry have gone 
 thither, and returned thence without infection, I more praise 
 God's providence than their adventure. 
 
 6. To travel from the sun is uncomfortable. Yet the nor- 
 thern parts with much ice have some crystal, and want not 
 their remarkables. 
 
 7. If thou wilt see much in a little, travel the Low Countries. 
 Holland is all Europe in an Amsterdam print, for Minerva, 
 Mars, and Mercury, learning, war and traffic. 
 
 8. Be wise in choosing objects, diligent in marking, care- 
 ful in remembering of them ; yet herein men much follow their 
 own humours. One asked a barber, who never before had 
 been at the court, what he saw there ? Oh, said he, the king 
 was excellently well trimmed! Thus merchants most mark 
 foreign havens, exchanges, and marts ; soldiers note forts, ar- 
 mouries, and magazines ; scholars listen after hbraries, dispu- 
 tations, and professors ; statesmen observe courts of justice, 
 councils, &c. Every one is partial in his own profession. 
 
 9. Labour to distil and unite into thyself the scattered per- 
 fections of several nations. But, as it was said of one who 
 with more industry than judgment frequented a college library, 
 and commonly made use of the worst notes he met with in 
 any authors, that he weeded the libraiy, many weed foreign 
 countries, bringing home Dutch drunkenness, Spanish pride, 
 
 * Antiqu. Jud. lib. 1. cap. 3. 
 
 t In his Preface to his Schoolmaster. 
 
OF TRAVELLING. 129 
 French wantonness, and Italian atheism. As for the good 
 herbs, Dutch industry, Spanish loyalty, French courtesy, and 
 Italian frugality, these they leave behind them. Others bring 
 home just nothing; and because they singled not themselves 
 from their countrymen, though some years beyond sea, were 
 never out of England. 
 
 10. Continue correspondence with some choice foreign friend 
 after thy return ; as some professor or secretary, who vir- 
 tually is the whole university, or state. It is but a dull 
 Dutch fashion, their ulbus amicorum, to make a dictionary of 
 their friends' names. But a selected familiar in every country 
 is useful : betwixt you there may be a letter exchange. Be 
 sure to return as good wares as thou receivest, and acquaint 
 hrm with the remark ables of thy own country, and he will 
 willingly continue the trade, finding it equally gainful. 
 
 11. Let discourse rather he easily drawn, than willingly 
 flow from thee. That thou mayest not seem weak to hold, 
 or desirous to vent news, but content to gratify thy friends. 
 Be sparing in reporting improbable truths, especially to the 
 vulgar, who, instead of informing their judgments, will sus- 
 pect thy credit. Disdain their peevish pride who rail on their 
 native land (whose worst fault is that it bred such ungrateful 
 fools), and in all their discourses prefer foreign countries, 
 herein shewing themselves of kin to the wild Irish in loving 
 their nurses better than their mothers. 
 
 XLV. — Of Company, 
 
 1. OMPANY is one of the greatest pleasures of the 
 nature of man. For the beams of joy are made 
 hotter by reflection, when related to another ; and otherwise 
 gladness itself must grieve for want of one to express itself to. 
 
 2. It is unnatural for a man to court and hug solitariness. 
 It is observed, that the furthest islands in the world are so 
 seated that there is none so remote but that from some shore of 
 it another island or continent may be discerned ; as if hereby 
 nature imited countries to a mutual commerce one with ano- 
 ther. Why then should any man affect to environ himself 
 with so deep and great reservedness, as not to communicate 
 with the society of others? And tliough we pity those who 
 made solitariness their refuge in time of persecution, we must 
 
 K 
 
130 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 condemn such as choose it in the church's prosperity. For 
 well may we count him not well in his wits who will live 
 always under a bush, because others in a storm shelter them- 
 selves under it. 
 
 3. Yet a desert is better than a debauched companion. 
 For the wildness of the place is but uncheerfiil, whilst the 
 wildness of bad persons is also infectious. Better therefore 
 ride alone than have a thiefs company. And such is a 
 wicked man who will rob thee of precious time, if he doth 
 no more mischief. The Nazarites, who might drink no wine, 
 were also forbidden (Numb. vi. 3.) to eat grapes, whereof 
 wine is made. We must not only avoid sin itself, but also 
 the causes and occasions thereof : amongst which bad com- 
 pany (the limetwigs of the devil) is the chiefest, especially to 
 catch those natures which, like the good-fellow planet, Mer- 
 cury, are most swayed by others. 
 
 4. If thou beest cast into bad company, like Hercules thou 
 ynust sleep with thy club in thine hand, and stand on thy guard. 
 I mean if against thy will the tempest of an unexpected occa- 
 sion drives thee amongst such rocks ; then be thou like the river 
 Dee in ]Merionethshire in Wales,* which running through 
 Pimble mere remains entire, and mingles not her streams 
 with the waters of the lake. Though with them, be not of 
 them; keep civil communion with them, but separate from 
 their sins. And if against thy will thou fallest amongst 
 wicked men, know to thy comfort thou art still in thy calling, 
 and therefore in God's keeping, who on thy prayers will pre- 
 serve thee. 
 
 5. The company he keeps is the comment by help whereof 
 men expound the most close and mystical man ; understanding 
 him for one of the same religion, Ufe, and manners with his 
 associates. And though perchance he be not such a one, it 
 is just he should be counted so for conversing with them. 
 Augustus Caesar came thus to discern his two daughters' in- 
 clinations : for being once at a public show, where much 
 people was present, he observed that the grave senators talked 
 with Livia, but loose youngsters and riotous persons with 
 Juha.f 
 
 * Carabd. Brit, in Merioneth, 
 t Sueton. in August. Caes. 
 
OF COMPANY. 131 
 
 6. He that eats cherries with noblemen, shall have his 
 eyes spirted out with the stones. This outlandish proverb 
 hath in it an English truth, that they who constantly converse 
 with men far above |J>ieir estates shall reap shame and loss 
 thereby : if thou pay est nothing they will count thee a sucker, 
 no branch ; a wen, no member of their company : if in pay- 
 ments thou keepest pace with them, their long strides will 
 soon tire thy short legs. The beavers in New England, 
 when some ten of them together draw a stick to the building 
 of their lodging, set the weakest beavers to the lighter end of 
 the log,* and the strongest take the heaviest part thereof: 
 whereas men often lay the greatest burthen on the weakest 
 back ; and great persons, to teach meaner men to learn their 
 distance, take pleasure to make them pay for their company. 
 I except such men who, having some excellent quality, are 
 gratis very welcome to their betters ; such a one, though he 
 pays not a penny of the shot, spends enough in lending them 
 his time and discourse. 
 
 7. To affect always to he the best of the company, argues a 
 base disposition. Gold always worn in the same purse with 
 silver, loses both of the colour and weight ; and so to converse 
 always with inferiors, degrades a man of his worth. Such 
 there are that love to be the lords of the company, whilst the 
 rest must be their tenants : as if bound by their lease to 
 approve, praise, and admire whatsoever they say. These, 
 knowing the lowness ©f their parts, love to live with dwarfs, 
 that they may seem proper men. To come amongst their 
 equals, they count it an abridgment of their freedom, but to 
 be with their betters, they deem it flat slavery. 
 
 8. It is excellent for one to have a library of scholars, 
 especially if they be plain to be read. I mean of a commu- 
 nicative nature, whose discourses are as full as fluent, and 
 their judgments as right as their tongues ready : such men's 
 talk shall be thy lectures. To conclude, good company is 
 not only profitable whilst a man Hves, but sometimes when 
 he is dead. For he that was buried with the bones of Elisha, 
 by a posthumous miracle of that prophet, recovered his life 
 by lodging with such a grave-fellow. f 
 
 * Wood, in his Description of New England, 
 t 2 Kings xiii. 21. 
 
132 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 XLVI. — Of Apparel. 
 
 CLOTHES are for necessity; warm clothes for health; 
 cleanly for decency; lasting fof thrift; and rich for 
 magnificence. Now there may be a fault in their number, 
 if too various ; making, if too vain ; matter, if too costly ; 
 and mind of the wearer, if he takes pride therein. We come 
 therefore to some general directions. 
 
 1. It is a chargeable vaniti/ to he constantly clothed above 
 one's purse, or place. I say constantly ; for perchance some- 
 times it may be dispensed with. A great man, who himself 
 was very plain in apparel, checked a gentleman for being 
 over fine : who modestly answered. Your lordship hath better 
 clothes at home, and J have worse. But sure no plea can be 
 made when this luxury is grown to be ordinary. It was an 
 arrogant act of Hubert archbishop of Canterbury, who, when 
 King John had given his courtiers rich liveries, to ape the 
 lion gave his servants the like, wherewith the king was not 
 a little offended.* But what shall we say to the riot of our 
 age, wherein, as peacocks are more gay than the eagle himself, 
 subjects are grown braver than their sovereign ? 
 
 2. It is beneath a wise man always to wear clothes beneath 
 men of his rank. True, there is a state sometimes in decent 
 plainness. When a wealthy lord at a great solemnity had 
 the plainest apparel; 0, said one, if you had marked it well., 
 his suit had the richest pockets. Yet ft argues no wisdom in 
 clothes alwa) S to stoop beneath his condition. W hen An- 
 tisthenes saw- Socrates in a torn coat, he shewed a hole thereof 
 to the people : And lo, quoth he, through this I see Socrates 
 his pride. 
 
 3. He shews a light gravity who loves to be an exception 
 from a general fashion. For the received custom in the place 
 where we live is the most competent judge of decency ; fi-om 
 which we must not appeal to our own opinion. W hen the 
 French courtiers, mourning for their king, Henry the Second, 
 had worn cloth a whole year, all silks became so vile in every 
 man's eyes, that if any was seen to wear them, he was pre- 
 sently accounted a mechanic or country fellow. f 
 
 * Matth . Paris, in Joan, anno 1201 . 
 f Mont book i, chap. 4. 
 
OF APPAREL. 133 
 
 4. It k a follij for one, Proteus-like, never to appear twice 
 in one shape. Had some of our gallants been with the Israel- 
 ites in the wilderness, * when for forty years their clothes 
 waxed not old, they would have been vexed, though their 
 clothes were whole, to have been so long in one flishion. 
 Yet here I must confess, I understand not what is reported of 
 Fulgentius, that he used the same garment winter and sum- 
 mer, and never altered his clothes, etiam in sacris peragendis.f 
 
 5. He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a inad- 
 man laughs at the rattling of his fetters. For indeed, clothes 
 ought to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency . Besides, 
 why should any brag of what's but borrowed? Should the 
 ostrich snatch off the gallant's feather, the beaver his hat, the 
 goat his gloves, the sheep his suit, the silkworm his stock- 
 ings, and neat his shoes, to strip him no farther than modesty 
 will give leave, he would be left in a cold condition. And 
 yet it is more pardonable to be proud, even of cleanly rags, 
 than, as many are, of affected slovenliness. The one is proud 
 of a molehill, the other of a dunghill. 
 
 To conclude, sumptuary laws in this land to reduce apparel 
 to a set standard of price and fashion, according to the se- 
 veral states of men, have long been wished, but are little to 
 be hoped for. Some think private men's superfluity is a ne- 
 cessary evil in a state, the floating of fashions affording a 
 standing maintenance to many thousands, who otherwise 
 would be at a loss for a livelihood, men maintaining more 
 by their pride than by their charity. 
 
 XLVIL— Of Buildixg. 
 
 HE that alters an old house is tied as a translator to the 
 original, and is confined to the fancy of the first builder. 
 Such a man were unwise to pluck down good old building, 
 to erect, perchance, worse new. But those that raise a new 
 house from the ground are blameworthy if they make it not 
 handsome, seeing to them method and confusion are both at 
 a rate. In building we must respect situation, contrivance, 
 receipt, strength, and beauty. Of situation. 
 
 * Deuter. xxix. 5. 
 
 X Vinceatius, Spec. lib. 20. cap. 105. 
 
134 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 1 . Chifjly choose a wholesome air. For air is a dish one 
 feeds on every minute, and therefore it need be good. Where- 
 fore great men, who may build where they please, as poor 
 men where they can, if herein they prefer their profit above 
 their health, I refer them to their physicians to make them pay 
 for it accordingly. 
 
 2. Wood and icater are two staple commodities where they 
 vuiy he had. The former I confess hath made so much iron, 
 that it must now be bought with the more silver, and grows 
 daily dearer. But it is as well pleasant as profitable to see a 
 house cased with trees, like that of Anchises in Troy, 
 
 quanquum secreta parentis 
 
 Anchisa domus arhoribusqiie obtecta recessit.* 
 
 The worst is, where a place is bald of wood, no art can 
 make it a periwig. As for water, begin with Pindar's begin- 
 ning, apiarov fiev vSiop. The fort of Gogmagog Hills nigh 
 Cambridge is counted impregnable but for want of water,t 
 the mischief of many houses where servants must bring the 
 well on their shoulders. 
 
 3. Next, a pleasant prospect is to he respected. A medley 
 view, such as of water and land at Greenwich, best entertains 
 the eyes, refreshing the wearied beholder with exchange of 
 objects. Yet I know a more profitable prospect, where the 
 owner can only see his own land round about. 
 
 4. A fair entrance with an easy ascent gives a great grace 
 to a building : where the hall is a preferment out of the court, 
 the parlour out of the hall; not, as in some old buildings, 
 where the doors are so low pigmies must stoop, and the rooms 
 so high that giants may stand upright. But now we are come 
 to contrivance. 
 
 5. Let not thy common rooms be several, nor thy several 
 rooms be cojnmon. The hall, which is a Pandoclieum, ought 
 to lie open, and so ought passages and stairs, provided that 
 the whole house be not spent in paths ; chambers and closets 
 are to be private and retired. 
 
 6. Light, God's eldest daughter, is a principal beauty in a 
 building : yet it shines not alike from all parts of heaven. 
 
 * Virgil, JEueid. ii. 300. 
 
 t Camb. Brit, in Cambridgeshire. 
 
OF BUILDING. 135 
 
 An east window welcomes the infant beams of the sun, before 
 they are of strength to do any harm, and is offensive to none 
 but a sluggard. A south window in summer is a chimney with 
 a fire in it, and needs the screen of a curtain. In a west win- 
 dow in summer time towards night, the suti grows low, and 
 over familiar with more light than dehght. A north window 
 is best for butteries and cellars, where the beer will be sour 
 for the sun's smiling on it. Thorough lights are best for rooms 
 of entertainment, and windows on one side for dormitories. 
 As for receipt, 
 
 7. A house had better be too little f or a day, than too great 
 for a year. And it is easier borrowing of thy neighbour a 
 brace of chambers for a night, than a bag of money for a 
 twelvemonth. It is vain, therefore, to proportion the receipt 
 to an extraordinary occasion, as those who by overbuilding 
 their houses have dilapidated their lands, and their states have 
 been pressed to death under the weight of their house. As 
 for strength, 
 
 8. Country houses must be substantives, able to stand of 
 themselves: not like city buildings supported by their neigh- 
 bours on either side. By strength we mean such as may re- 
 sist weather and time, not invasion, castles being out of date 
 in this peaceable age. As for the making of moats round 
 about, it is questionable whether the fogs be not more un- 
 healthful than the fish brings profit, or the water defence. 
 Beauty remains behind as the last to be regarded, because 
 houses are made to be lived in, not looked on. 
 
 9. Let not the front look asquint on a stranger, but accost 
 him right at his entrance. Uniformity also much pleaseth 
 the eye ; and it is observed that freestone, like a fair com- 
 plexion, soonest waxeth old, whilst brick keeps her beauty 
 longest. 
 
 10. Let the office-houses observe the due distance from 
 the mansion-house. Those are too familiar, which presume 
 to be of the same pile with it. The same may be said of 
 stables and barns ; without which a house is like a city with- 
 out works, it can never hold out long. 
 
 11. Gardens are also to attend in their place. When God 
 (Gen. ii. 9.) planted a garden eastward, he made to grow out 
 of the ground every tree pleasant to the sight, and good for 
 food. Sure he knew better what was proper to a garden than 
 
136 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 those who now-a-days therein only feed the eyes, and starve 
 
 both taste and smell. 
 
 To conclude, in building rather believe any man than an 
 artificer in his own art for matter of charges ; not that they 
 cannot, but will not be faithful. Should they tell thee all 
 the cost at the first, it would blast a young builder in the 
 budding, and therefore they soothe thee up till it hath cost 
 thee something to confute them. The spirit of building first 
 possessed people after the flood, which then caused the con- 
 fusion of languages, and since of the estate of many a man. 
 
 XLVIIL— Of Anger. 
 
 A NGER is one of the sinews of the soul ; he that w^ants 
 -^-J^ it hath a maimed mind, and with Jacob, sinew-shrunk 
 in the hollow of his thigh, must needs halt. Nor is it good 
 to converse witli such as cannot be angry, and with the Cas- 
 ]:)ian sea never ebb nor flow. This anger is either heavenly, 
 when one is offended for God ; or hellish, when offended 
 with God and goodness; or earthly, in temporal matters. 
 Which earthly anger, whereof we treat, may also be heihsh, 
 if for no cause, no great cause, too hot, or too long. 
 
 1. Be not cnigry ivith any without a cause. If thou beest, 
 thou must not only, as the proverb saith, be appeased with- 
 out amends, having neither cost nor damage given thee, but, 
 as our Saviour saith, be in danger of the judgment* 
 
 2. Be not mortallij angry with any for a venial fault. 
 He will make a strange combustion in the state of his soul, 
 who at the landing of every cockboat sets the beacons on fire. 
 To be angry for every toy debases the worth of thy anger ; 
 for he will be angry for anything, who will be angiy for nothing. 
 
 3. Let not thy anger be so hot, hut that the most torrid 
 zone thereo f may be habitable. Fright not people fi*om thy 
 presence with the terror of thy intolerable impatience. Some 
 men, like a tiled house, are long before they take fire, but once 
 on flame there is no coming near to quench them. 
 
 4. Take heed o f doing irrevocable acts in thy passion. As 
 the revealing of secrets, which makes thee a bankrupt for so- 
 ciety ever after : neither do such things which done once are 
 
 * Matt. v. 22. 
 
OF ANGER. 137 
 done for ever, so that no bemoaning can amend them. Sam- 
 son's hair grew again, but not his eyes : time may restore 
 some losses, others are never to be repaired. Wherefore in 
 thy rage make no Persian decree which cannot be reversed 
 or repealed ; but rather Polonian laws, which, they say, last 
 but three days : do not in an instant what an age cannot 
 recompense. 
 
 5. Anger kept till the next moj-ning, with mcmna, doth pu- 
 trefy and corrupt ; * save that manna corrupted not at all, and 
 anger most of all, kept the next sabbath. St. Paul saith, Let 
 not the sun go down on your wrath ;\ to cany news to the 
 antipodes in another world of thy revengeful nature. Yet let 
 us take the apostle's meaning rather than his words, with all 
 possible speed to depose our passion, not understanding him 
 so literally that we may take leave to be angry till sunset : 
 then might our wrath lengthen with the days ; and men in 
 Greenland, where day lasts above a quarter of a year, have 
 plentiful scope of revenge. And as the English, by command 
 from \^'illiam the Conqueror, always raked up their fire and 
 put out their candles when the curfew bell was rung,;}; let us 
 then also quench all sparks of anger and heat of passion. 
 
 6. He that keeps anger long in his bosom, giveth place to the 
 devil.^ And why should we make room for him, who will 
 crowd in too fast of himself? Heat of passion makes our souls 
 to chap, and the devil creeps in at the crannies ; yea, a furious 
 man in his fits may seem possessed with a devil, foams, fumes, 
 tears himself, is deaf and dumb in effect, to hear or speak 
 reason : sometimes swallows, stares, stamps, with fiery eyes 
 and flaming cheeks. Had Narcissus himself seen his own 
 face when he had been angry, he could never have fallen in 
 love with himself. 
 
 XLIX. — Of Expecting Preferment. 
 
 THERE are as many several tenures of expectation as of 
 possession; some nearer, some more remote, some 
 grounded on strong, others on weaker reasons. As for a 
 
 * Exod. xvi. 24. t Ephes. iv. '26. 
 
 t Cowel's Interpreter, out of Stow's Annals. 
 § Ephes. iv. 27. 
 
138 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 groundless expectation, it is a wilful self-delusion. We come 
 
 to instructions how men should manage their hopes herein. 
 
 1. Hope not for impossibilities. For though the object of 
 hope be f uturum possibile, yet some are so mad as to feed 
 their expectation on things, though not in themselves, yet 
 to them impossible, if we consider the weakness of the means 
 whereby they seek to attain them. He needs to stand on 
 tiptoes that hopes to touch the moon ; and those who expect 
 what in reason they cannot expect, may expect. 
 
 2. Carefully survey what proportion the means thou hast, 
 bearest to the end thou expectcst. Count not a courtier's promise 
 of course a specialty that he is bound to prefer thee ; seeing 
 compliments oftentimes die in the speaking, why should thy 
 hopes, grounded on them, live longer than the hearing ? Per- 
 chance the text of his promise intended but common courtesies, 
 which thy apprehension expounds speedy and special favours. 
 Others make up the weakness of their means with conceit of 
 the strength of their deserts, foolishly thinking that their own 
 merits will be the undoubted patrons to present them to all 
 void benefices. 
 
 3. The heir-apparent to the next preferment may be disin- 
 herited by an unexpected accident. A gentleman, servant to 
 lord-admiral Howard, was suitor to a lady above his deserts, 
 grounding the confidence of his success on his relation to so 
 honourable a lord ; which lord gave the anchor as badge of 
 his office, and therefore this suitor wrote in a window, 
 
 If I be bold. 
 
 The anchor is my hold. 
 
 But his co-rival to the same mistress coming into the same 
 room wrote under. 
 
 Yet fear the worst: 
 What if the cable burst? 
 
 Thus useless is the anchor of hope (good for nothing but 
 to deceive those that rely on it) if the cable or small cords of 
 means and causes whereon it depends fail and miscarry. 
 Daily experience tenders too many examples. A gentleman 
 who gave a basilisk for his arms or crest, promised to make 
 a young kinsman of his his heir, which kinsman to ingratiate 
 himself painted a basilisk in his study, and beneath it these 
 verses : 
 
EXPECTING PREFERMENT. 139 
 
 Falleris aspectu basiliscum occidere. Plini, 
 Nam vita nostra spem basiliscus alit. 
 
 The basilisk's the only stay, 
 
 My life preserving still ; 
 Pliny, thou liedst when thou didst say 
 
 The basilisk doth kill. 
 
 But this rich gentleman dying frustrated his expectation, 
 and bequeathed all his estate to another ; whereupon the epi- 
 gram was thus altered : 
 
 Certe aluit, sed spe vana, spes vana venerium ; 
 Ignoscas, Plini, verus es historicus. 
 
 Indeed vain hopes to me he gave, 
 
 Whence I my poison drew : 
 Pliny, thy pardon now I crave. 
 
 Thy writings are too true. 
 
 4. Pi'oportion thy expenses to what thou hast in possession, 
 not to thi/ expectancies. Otherwise he that feeds on wind 
 must needs be griped with the colic at last. And if the cere- 
 monial law forbade the Jews to seethe a kid in the mother's 
 milk, the law of good husbandry forbids us to eat a kid in the 
 mother's belly, spending our pregnant hopes before they be 
 delivered. 
 
 5. Emhrue not thy soul in bloody wishes of his death, who 
 parts thee and thy preferment ; a murder the more common, be- 
 cause one cannot be arraigned for it on earth. But those are 
 charitable murderers who wish them in heaven, not so much 
 that they may have ease at their journey's end, but because 
 they must needs take death in the way. 
 
 6. In earthly matters, expectation takes up more joy on trust, 
 than the fruition of the thing is able to discharge. The lion 
 is not so fierce as painted ; nor are matters so fair as the pen- 
 cil of the expectant limns them out in his hopes. They fore- 
 count their wives fair, fruitful, and rich, without any fault; 
 their children witty, beautiful, and dutiful, without any fro- 
 wardness : and as St. Basil held, that roses in paradise, before 
 man's fall, grew without prickles, they abstract the pleasures 
 of things from the troubles annexed to them, which, when they 
 come to enjoy, they must take both together. Surely a good 
 unlocked for is a virgin happiness ; whereas those who obtain 
 
140 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 what long they kave gazed on in expectation, only marry what 
 
 themselves have deflowered before. 
 
 7. When our hopes break, let our patieiice hold: relying on 
 God's providence without murmuring, who often provides for 
 men above what we can think or desire. When Robert Hol- 
 gate could not peaceably enjoy his small living in Lincolnshire, 
 because of the litigiousness of a neigbouring knight, comhig 
 to London to right himself, he came into the favour of King 
 Henry the Eighth, and got, by degrees, the archbishopric of 
 York.* Thus God sometimes defeats our hopes, or disturbs 
 our possession of lesser favours, thereby to bestow on his ser- 
 vants better blessings, if not here, hereafter. 
 
 L. — Of Memory. 
 
 IT is the treasure-house of the mind, wherein the monu- 
 ments thereof are kept and preserved. Plato makes it the 
 mother of the muses ;f Aristotle sets it one degree further, 
 making experience the mother of arts, memory the parent of 
 experience. Philosophers place it in the rear of the head; 
 and it seems the mine of memory lies there, because there 
 naturally men dig for it, scratching it when they are at a loss. 
 This again is twofold : one, the simple retention of things ; 
 tlie other, a regaining them when forgotten. 
 
 1 . Brute creatures equal, if not exceed, men in a bare re- 
 tentive memory. Through how many labyrinths of woods, 
 without other clue of thread than natural instinct, doth the 
 hunted hare return to her muce! How doth the little bee, 
 flying into several meadows and gardens, sipping of many 
 cups, yet never intoxicated, through an ocean as I may say of 
 air, steadily steer herself home, without help of card or compass. 
 But these cannot play an aftergame, and recover what they 
 have forgotten, which is done by the meditation of discourse. 
 
 2. Artificial memory is rather a trick than an art, and 
 more for the gain of the teacher than profit of the learners. 
 Like the tossing of a pike, which is no part of the postures 
 and motions thereof, and is rather for ostentation than use, 
 to shew the strength and nimbleness of the arm, and is often 
 
 * Godwin, in his Catal. of Archbishops of York, 
 t Metaphys. lib. i. cap. L 
 
OF MEMORY. 141 
 
 used by wandering soldiers as an introduction to beg. Under- 
 stand it of the artificial rules which at this day are delivered 
 by memory-mountebanks ; for sure an art thereof may be 
 made, wherein as yet the world is defective, and that no more 
 destructive to natural memory than spectacles are to eyes, 
 wiiich girls in Holland wear from 12 years of age. But til! 
 this be found out, let us observe these plain rules. 
 
 3. First, soundly infix in thy mind what thou desirest to 
 remembe?'. What wonder is it if agitation of business jog 
 that out of thy head, which was there rather tacked than 
 fastened? Whereas those notions which get in by violenta 
 possessio will abide there, till eject iojirma, sickness or extreme 
 age, dispossess them. It is best knocking in the nail over- 
 night, and cUnching it the next morning. 
 
 4. Overhurthen not thy memory^ to make so faithful a ser- 
 vant a slave. Remember Atlas was weary. Have as much 
 reason as a camel, to rise when thou hast thy full load. Memory, 
 like a purse, if it be over full that it cannot shut, all will drop 
 out of it. Take heed of a gluttonous curiosity to feed on many 
 things, lest the greediness of the appetite of thy memory spoil 
 the digestion thereof. Beza's case was peculiar and memo- 
 rable ; being above fourscore years of age he perfectly could say 
 by heart any Greek chapter in St. Paul's epistles,* or any thing 
 else which he had learnt long before, but forgot whatsoever 
 was newly told him; his memory, like an inn, retaining old 
 guests, but having no room to entertain new. 
 
 5. Spoil not thy memory with thine own jealousy , nor jnake 
 it bad by suspecting it. How canst thou find that true which 
 thou wilt not trust? St. Augustine tells us of his friend Sim- 
 plicius, who being asked, could tell all Virgil's verses back- 
 ward and forward ; and yet the same party vowed to God 
 that he knew not he could do it till they did try him.f Sure 
 there is concealed strength in men's memories which they 
 take no notice of. 
 
 6. Marshal thy notions into a handsome method. One 
 will carry twice more weight trussed and packed up in bundles, 
 than when it lies untowardly flapping and hanging about his 
 
 * Thuan. Obit. Doct. Virorum. p. 384. 
 + ." Testatus est Deum, nescisse se hoc posse ante illud expe- 
 rimentum." — August, torn. 7. lib. de Anima et ejus Orig. cap. 7. 
 
142 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 shoulders. Things orderly fardled up under heads are most 
 
 portable. 
 
 7. Adventure not all thy learning in one bottom, but divide 
 it betwixt thy memory and thy note-books. He that with 
 Bias carries all his learning about him in his head, will 
 utterly be beggared and bankrupt, if a violent disease, a mer- 
 ciless thief, should rob and strip him. I know some have a 
 common-place against common-place books, and yet per- 
 chance vvill privately make use of what publicly they declaim 
 against. A common-place book contains many notions in 
 garrison, whence the owner may draw out an army into the 
 field on competent warning. 
 
 8. Moderate diet and good air preserve memory ; but what 
 air is best I dare not define, when such great ones differ. 
 Some say a pure and subtle air is best ; another commends a 
 thick and foggy air. For the Pisans, sited in the fens and 
 marsh of Arnus, have excellent memories, as if the foggy air 
 were a cap for their heads.* 
 
 9. Thankfulness to God for it continues the memory: 
 whereas some proud people have been visited with such 
 oblivion that they have forgotten their own names. Staupi- 
 tius, tutor to Luther, and a godly man, in a vain ostenta- 
 tion of his memory repeated Christ's genealogy (Matt, i.) by 
 heart in his sermon, but being out about the captivity of Ba- 
 bylon, I see, saith he, God resisteth the proud, and so betook 
 himself to his book.f Abuse not thy memory to be sin's 
 register, nor make advantage thereof for wickedness. Ex- 
 cellently Augustine : Quidam vero pessimi memoria sunt mi- 
 rabili, qui tanto pejores sunt, quanto minus possunt, qua male 
 cogitant, oblivisci.X 
 
 LI.— Of Fancy. 
 
 IT is an inward sense of the soul, for a while retaining and 
 examining things brought in thither by the common 
 sense. It is the most boundless and restless faculty of the 
 
 * Plato, Aristotle, Tully. *' Singulari valent memoria quo 
 urbs crassiore fruatur eere." — Mercat. Atlas in Tuscia. 
 t Melchior Adamus, in Vila Staupitii, p. 20. 
 X De Civ. Dei, lib. 7. cap. 3. 
 
OF FANCY. 143 
 soul : for whilst the understanding and the will are kept as it 
 were in libera custodia to their objects of verum et honuniy 
 the fancy is free from all engagements : it digs without spade, 
 sails without ship, flies without wings, builds without charges, 
 fights without bloodshed, in a moment striding from the centre 
 to the circumference of the world, by a kind of omnipotency 
 creating and annihilating things in an instant; and things 
 divorced in nature are married in fancy as in a lawful place. 
 It is also most restless : whilst the senses are bound, and 
 reason in a manner asleep, fancy, like a sentinel, walks the 
 round, ever working, never wearied. The chief diseases of 
 the fancy are, either that they are too wild and high soaring, 
 or else too low and grovelling, or else too desultory and over 
 voluble. Of the first. 
 
 1 . If thy fancy he but a little too rank, age itself will correct 
 it. To lift too high is no fault in a young horse, because 
 with travelling he will mend it for his own ease. Thus lofty 
 fancies in young men will come down of themselves, and in 
 process of time the overplus will shrink to be but even mea- 
 sure. But if this will not do it, then observe these rules. 
 
 2. Take part always with thy judgment against thy fancy 
 in any thing wherein they shall dissent. If thou suspectest 
 thy conceits too luxuriant, herein account thy suspicion a legal 
 conviction, and damn whatsoever thou doubtest of. Warily 
 TuUy : Bene monent, qui vetant guicquam facere, de quo du- 
 bitas, (Equum sit an iniquum. 
 
 3. Take the advice of a faithful friend, and submit thy in- 
 ventions to his censure. When thou pennest an oration, let 
 him have the power of index expurgatorius, to expunge what 
 he pleaseth ; and do not thou, like a fond mother, cry if the 
 child of thy brain be corrected for playing the wanton. Mark 
 the arguments and reasons of his alterations ; why that phrase 
 least proper, this passage more cautious and advised ; and 
 after a while thou shalt perform the place in thine own person, 
 and not go out of thyself for a censurer. If thy fancy be too 
 low and humble, 
 
 4. Let thy judgment be king, but not tyrant over it, to 
 condemn harmless, yea, commendable conceits. Some for fear 
 their orations should giggle, will not let them smile. Give 
 it also liberty to rove, for it will not be extravagant. There 
 is no danger that weak folks, if they walk abroad, will straggle 
 far, as wanting strength. 
 
144 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 5. Acquaint thyself with reading poets, for there fancy is 
 in her throne ; and in time, the sparks of the author's wit will 
 catch hold on the reader, and inflame him with love, liking, 
 and desire of imitation. I confess there is more required to 
 teach one to write than to see a copy : however, there is a 
 secret force of fascination in reading poems to raise and pro- 
 voke fancy. If thy fancy be over voluble, then 
 
 6. Whip this vagrant home to the first object whereon it 
 should be settled. Indeed, nimbleness is the perfection of this 
 faculty, but levity the bane of it. Great is the difference 
 betwixt a swift horse and a skittish, that will stand on no 
 ground. Such is the ubiquitary fancy, which will keep long 
 residence on no one subject, but is so courteous to strangers, 
 that it ever welcomes that conceit most which comes last ; and 
 new species supplant the old ones, before seriously considered. 
 If this be the fault of thy fancy, I say whip it home to the 
 hrst object whereon it should be settled. This do as often as 
 occasion requires, and by degrees the fugitive servant will 
 leam to abide by his work without running away. 
 
 7. Acquaint thyself by degrees icith hard and knotty studies, 
 as school-divinity, which will clog thy over nimble fancy. 
 True, at the first it will be as welcome to thee as a prison, and 
 their very solutions will seem knots unto thee. But take not 
 too much at once, lest thy brain turn edge. Taste it first as a 
 potion for physic, and by degrees thou shalt drink it as beer 
 for thirst : practice will make it pleasant. Mathematics are 
 also good for this purpose. If beginning to try a conclusion, 
 thou must make an end, lest thou lose thy pains that are past, 
 and must proceed seriously and exactly. I meddle not with 
 those bedlam-fancies, all whose conceits are antiques, but 
 leave them for the physician to purge with hellebore. 
 
 8. To clothe low-creeping matter with high-flown language 
 is not fine fancy, hut fl at foolery . It rather loads than raises 
 a wren, to fasten the feathers of an ostrich to her wings. 
 Some men's speeches are like the high mountains in Ireland, 
 having a dirty bog in the top of them : the very ridge of them 
 in high words having nothing of worth, but what rather stalls 
 than delights the auditor. 
 
 9. Fine fancies in manufactures invent engines rather 
 pretty than useful; and commonly one trade is too narrow 
 for them. They are better to project new ways than to pro- 
 
OF FANCY. 145 
 secute old, and are rather skilful in many mysteries, than 
 thriving in one. They affect not voluminous inventions, 
 wherein many years must constantly be spent to perfect them , 
 except there be in them variety of pleasant employment. 
 
 10. Imagination, the work of the fancy, hath pi^oduced 
 real effects. Many serious and sad examples hereof may be 
 produced : I will only insist on a merry one. A pjentleman 
 having led a company of children beyond their usual journey, 
 they began to be weary, and jointly cried to him to carry them ; 
 which, because of their multitude, he could not do, but told 
 them he would provide them horses to ride on. Then cutting 
 little wands out of the hedge as nags for them, and a great 
 stake as a gelding for himself, thus mounted, fancy put metal 
 into their legs, and they came cheerfully home. 
 
 11. Fancy runs most furiously ivhen a guilty conscience 
 drives it. One that owed much money, and had many cre- 
 ditors, as he walked London streets in the evening, a tenter- 
 hook caught his cloak. At whose suit? said he, conceiving 
 some bailiff had arrested him. Thus guilty consciences are 
 afraid where no fear is, and count every creature they meet 
 a Serjeant sent from God to punish them. 
 
 LII. — Of Natural Fools. 
 
 THEY have the cases of men, and little else of them be- 
 sides speech and laughter. And indeed, it may seem 
 strange thatmi6/e being the property of man alone, they wh 
 have least of man should have most thereof, laughing without 
 cause or measure. 
 
 1. Generally nature hangs out a sign of simplicity in the 
 face of a fool; and there is enough in his countenance for^a 
 hue and cry to take him on suspicion : or else it is stamped 
 on the figure of his body; their heads sometimes so little, 
 that there is no room for wit ; sometimes so long, that there 
 is no wit for so much room. 
 
 2. Yet some by their faces may pass current enough, till 
 they cry themselves down by their speaking. Thus men know 
 the bell is cracked when they hear it tolled ; yet some that 
 have stood out the assault of two or three questions, and have 
 answered pretty rationally, have afterwards of their own ac- 
 cord betrayed and yielded themselves to be fools. 
 
 L 
 
146 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 3. I'fie oaths and railing of fools is oftentimes no fault of 
 theirs, but their teachers. The Hebrew word barac, signifies 
 to bless and to curse ; and it is the speaker's pleasure if he 
 use it in the worst acceptation. Fools of themselves are 
 equally capable to pray and to swear ; they therefore have the 
 greater sin who, by their example or otherwise, teach them 
 so to do. 
 
 4. One may get wisdom by looking on a fool. In beholding 
 him, think how much thou art beholden to Him that suffered 
 thee not to be like him. Only God's pleasure put a difference 
 betwixt you. And consider that a fool and a wise man are 
 alike both in the starting-place, their birth, and at the post, 
 their death ; only they differ in the race of their lives. 
 
 5. It is unnatural to laugh at a Jiaturul. How can the 
 object of thy pity be the subject of thy pastime ? I confess 
 .sometimes the strangeness, and, as I may say, witty simpli- 
 city of their actions, may extort a smile from a serious man, 
 who at the same time may smile at them, and sorrow for 
 them. But it is one thing to laugh at them in transitu, a 
 snap and away, and another to make a set meal in jeering 
 them, and as the Philistines, to send for Samson to make 
 them sport. 
 
 6. To make a trade of laughing at a fool, is the highway 
 to become one. Tully confesseth that whilst he laughed at 
 one Hircus, a very ridiculous man, dum ilium rideo pene 
 
 factus sum ille.'^ And one telleth us of Gallus Vibius, a 
 man first of great eloquence, and afterwards of great madness, 
 which seized not on him so much by accident as his own affec- 
 tation, so long mimically imitating madmen, that he became 
 one.f 
 
 7. Many have been the wise speeches of fools, though not so 
 nmny as the foolish speeches of wise men. Now the wise 
 speeches of these silly souls proceed from one of these reasons : 
 either because talking much, and shooting often, they must 
 needs hit the mark sometimes, though not by aim, by hap : 
 or else, because a fool's medioctiter is optime: sense from 
 his mouth, a sentence ; and a tolerable speech cried up for 
 
 * Epist. lib. 2. Epist. 9. 
 
 + . " Dum insanos imitatur, quod assimulabat ad vivum redegh." 
 — Rhodiginus, Antiq. lib. 11. cap. 13, 
 
OF NATURAL FOOLS. 147 
 an apophthegm : or lastly, because God may sometimes 
 illuminate them, and, especially towards their death, admit 
 them to the possession of some part of reason. A poor 
 beggar in Paris being^ery hungry stayed so long in a cook's 
 shop, who was disiiing up of meat, till his stomach was 
 satisfied with only the smell thereof. The choleric covetous 
 cook demanded of him to pay for his breakfast. The poor 
 man denied it, and the controversy was referred to the deci- 
 ding of the next man that should pass by, who chanced to be 
 the most notorious idiot in the whole city. He, on the relation 
 of the matter, determined that the poor man's money should 
 be put betwixt two empty dishes, and the cook should be 
 recompensed with the jingling of the poor man's money, as 
 he was satisfied with only the smell of the cook's meat. And 
 this is affirmed by credible writers,* as no fable, but an un- 
 doubted fact. More waggish was that of a rich landed fool, 
 whom a courtier had begged and carried about to wait on 
 him. He coming with his master to a gentleman's house, 
 where the picture of a fool was wrought in a fair suit of arras, 
 cut the picture out with a penknife. And being chidden for 
 so doing; You have more cause, said he, to thank me,jor if' 
 my 7?iuste7' had seen the picture of the fool, he would have 
 begged the hangings of the king, as he did my lands. When 
 the standers-by comforted a natural who lay on his death- 
 bed, and told him that four proper fellows should carry his 
 body to the church : Yea, quoth he, but I had rather by 
 half go thither myself; and then prayed to God at his last 
 gasp not to require more of him than he gave him. 
 
 As for a changeling, who is not one child changed for 
 another, but one child on a sudden much changed from itself; 
 and for a jester, which some count a necessary evil in a court, 
 an office which none but he that hath wit can perform, and 
 none but he that wants wit will perform, I conceive them 
 not to belong to the present subject. 
 
 * Jo. And. Panor. ; Barba. et alii inde ad nostram ; Hiero. 
 Franc, in Lib. Furios. Dereg. Jurisff. ; Boer. Decis. 23. n. 58j 
 Mantic. de Conject. ult. v. Jib. 2. tit. 5. n. 8 ; Corset. Sing. 
 Verbi Testamentum. 
 
148 
 
 THE HOL Y STATE. 
 
 LIII. — Of Recreations. 
 
 T3 EC RE ATI ON S is a second cr^tion, when weariness 
 hath almost annihilated one's spirits. It is the breath- 
 ing of the soul, which otherwise would be stifled with con- 
 tinual business. We may trespass in them, if using such as 
 are forbidden by the lawyer, as against the statutes; physi- 
 cian, as against health ; divine, as against conscience. 
 
 1 . Be well satisfied in thy conscience of the luicfulness of 
 the recreation thou tisest. Some fight against cockfighting, 
 and baitbull and bearbaiting, because man is not to be a 
 common barretour to set the creatures at discord ; and seeing 
 antipathy betwixt c/eatures was kindled by man's sin, what 
 pleasure can he take to see it burn ? Others are of the con- 
 trary opinion, and that Christianity gives us a placard to use 
 these sports ; and that man's charter of dominion over the 
 creatures enables him to employ them as well for pleasure as 
 necessity. In these as in all other doubtful recreations, be 
 well assured first of the legality of them. He that sins against 
 his conscience sins with a witness. 
 
 2. Spill not the morning {the quintessence of the day) in re- 
 creations. For sleep itself is a recreation ; add not therefore 
 sauce to sauce ; and he cannot properly have any title to be 
 refreshed, who was not first faint. Pastime, like wine, is 
 poison in the morning. It is then good husbandry to sow the 
 head, which hath lain fallow all night, with some serious work- 
 Chiefly entrench not on the Lord's day to use unlawful sports ; 
 this were to spare thine own flock, and to shear God's lamb. 
 
 3. Let thy recreations he ingenious, and hear proportion 
 with thine age. If thou sayest with Paul, When I was a 
 t hildy I did as a child ; say also with him, hut when I was a 
 wan, I put away childish things. Wear also the child's coat, 
 if thou usest his sports. 
 
 4. Take heed ofhoisterous and over-violent exercises. Ring- 
 ing ofttimes hath made good music on the bells, and put 
 men's bodies out of tune, so that by overheating themselves 
 they have rung their own passing-bell. 
 
 5. Yet the ruder sort of people scarce count any thing a 
 sport which is not loud and violent. The Muscovite women 
 esteem none loving husbands, except they beat their wives. 
 
OF RECREATIONS. 149 
 It is no pastime with country clowns that cracks not pates, 
 breaks not shins, bruises not Umbs, tumbles and tosses not all 
 the body. They think themselves not warm in their geers, 
 till they are all on fira; and count it but dry sport till they 
 swim in their own sweat. Yet I conceive the physician's 
 rule in exercises: Ad ruborem, but non ad sudurem, is too 
 scant measure. 
 
 6. Refresh that part of thyself which is most wearied. If 
 thy life be sedentary, exercise thy body ; if stirring and active, 
 recreate thy mind. But take heed of cozening thy mind, in 
 setting it to do a double task under pretence of giving it a 
 playday, as in the labyrinth of chess, and other tedious and 
 studious games. 
 
 7. Yet recreations distasteful to some dispositions, relish 
 best to others. Fishing with an angle is to some rather a 
 torture than a pleasure, to stand an hour as mute as the fish 
 they mean to take: yet herewithal Dr. Whitaker was much 
 delighted.* When some noblemen had gotten William Cecil 
 Lord Burleigh, and treasurer of England, to ride with them 
 a-hunting, and the sport began to be cold ; " What call you 
 this?" said the treasurer. "Oh now," said they, "the dogs 
 are at a fault." " Yea," quoth the treasurer, "take me again 
 in such a fault, and I'll give you leave to punish me." Thus 
 as soon may the same meat please all palates, as the same 
 sport suit with all dispositions. 
 
 8. Running, leaping, and dancing, the descants on the plain 
 song of walking, are all excellent exercises. And yet those 
 are the best recreations which, besides refreshing, enable, at 
 least dispose men to some other good ends. Bowling teaches 
 men's hands and eyes mathematics, and the rules of propor- 
 tion : swimming hath saved many a man's life, when himself 
 hath been both the wares and the ship : tilting and fencing 
 is war without anger ; and manly sports are the grammar of 
 military performance. 
 
 9. But above all, shooting is a noble recreation, and a 
 half' liberal art. A rich man told a poor man that he walked 
 to get a stomach for his meat : Ayid I, said the poor man, 
 walk to get meat for mij stomach. Now, shooting would have 
 fitted both their turns ; it provides food when men are hungry, 
 
 * In his Life, written by Mr. Ashton. 
 
 i 
 
150 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 aiid helps digestion when they are full. King Edward the 
 Sixth, though he drew no strong bow, shot very well ; and 
 ■when once John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, com- 
 mended him for hitting the mark ; You shot better, quoth the 
 king, ivheyi you shot off my good uncle Protector s head. But 
 our age sees his successor exceeding him in that art, whose 
 eye, like his judgment, is clear and quick to discover the mark, 
 and his hands as just in shooting as in dealing aright. 
 
 10. Some sports being granted to be lawful, more prepaid 
 to be ill than well used. Such I count stage-plays, when 
 made always the actors' work, and often the spectators' re- 
 creation. Zeuxis, the curious picturer, painted a boy holding 
 a dish full of grapes in his hand, done so lively that the birds, 
 being deceived, flew to peck the grapes.* But Zeuxis, in an 
 ingenious choler, was angry with his own workmanship. Had 
 I, said he, made the boy as lively as the grapes, the birds jvould 
 have been afraid to touch them. Thus two things are set forth 
 to us as stage-plays : some grave sentences, prudent counsels, 
 and punishment of vicious examples; and with these, des- 
 perate oaths, lustful talk, and riotous acts are so personated 
 to the life, that wantons are tickled with delight, and feed their 
 palates upon them. It seems the goodness is not portrayed 
 out with equal accents of liveliness as the wicked things are : 
 otherwise men would be deterred from vicious courses, veith 
 seeing the woful success which follows them. But the main 
 is, Nvanton speeches on stages are the devil's ordinance to beget 
 badness ; but I question whether the pious speeches spoken 
 there be God's ordinance to increase goodness, as wanting both 
 his institution and benediction. 
 
 11. Choke not thy soul xvith immoderate pouring in the 
 cordial of pleasures. The creation lasted but six days of the 
 first week : profane they whose recreation lasts seven days 
 every week. Rather abridge thyself of thy lawful liberty 
 herein ; it being a wary rule which St. Gregory gives us. Solus 
 in illicitis non cadit, qui se aliquando et a licitis caute re- 
 stringit.f And then recreations shall both strengthen la- 
 bour and sweeten rest, and we may expect God's blessing 
 and protection on us in following them, as well as in doing 
 
 * Phn. Nat. Hist. lib. 35. cap. 10. 
 
 t Lib. 5. Moral, et Homil. 35. supra Evang. 
 
OF RECREATIONS. 151 
 
 our work : For he that saith grace for his meat, in it prays also 
 to God to bless the sauce unto him. As for those that will 
 not take lawful pleasure, I am afraid they will take unlawful 
 pleasure, and by lacing themselves too hard grow awry on 
 one side. 
 
 LIV.— Of Tombs. 
 
 TOMBS are the clothes of the dead : a grave is but a 
 plain suit, and a rich monument is one embroidered. 
 Most moderate men have been careful for the decent inter- 
 ment of their corpse. Few of the fond mind of Arbogastus, 
 an Irish saint, and bishop of Spires in Germany, who would 
 be buried near the gallows, in imitation of our Saviour, whose 
 grave was in Mount Calvary near the place of execution.* 
 
 1 . It is a provident way to make one's tomb in ones life- 
 time ; both hereby to prevent the negligence of heirs, and to 
 mind him of his mortality. Virgil tells us that when bees 
 swarm in the air, and two armies meeting together fight as it 
 were a set battle with great violence, cast but a little dust 
 upon them, and they will be quiet.-j- 
 
 Hi motus animorum, atque hac certamina tnnta 
 Pulveris exigui jactu compressa guiescunt. 
 
 These stirrings of their minds and strivings vast, 
 
 If but a little dust on them be cast. 
 
 Are straightways stinted, and quite overpast. 
 
 Thus the most ambitious motions and thoughts of man's 
 mind are quickly quelled when dust is thrown on him, whereof 
 his fore-prepared sepulchre is an excellent remembrancer. 
 
 2. Yet some seem to have built their tombs, therein to bury 
 their thoughts of dying, never thinking thereof, but embracing 
 the world with greater greediness. A gentleman made choice 
 of a fair stone, and, intending the same for his gravestone, 
 caused it to be pitched up in a field a pretty distance from 
 his house, and used often to shoot at it for his exercise. Yea 
 but, said a wag that stood by, you would be loath, sir, to hit 
 the mark. And so are many unwilling to die who, notwith- 
 standing, have erected their monuments. 
 
 * WarrzBUS, de Scriptor. Hiber. p. 26. i Georgic. lib. 4. 
 
152 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 3. Tombs ought in some sort to be proportioned, not to the 
 wealth, but deserts of the parti/ interred. Yet may we see 
 some rich man of mean worth loaden under a tomb big 
 enough for a prince to bear. There were officers appointed 
 in the Grecian games,* who always by pubhc authority did 
 pluck down the statues erected to the victors, if they exceeded 
 the true symmetry and proportion of their bodies. We need 
 such now-a-days to order monuments to men's merits, chiefly 
 to reform such depopulating tombs as have no good fellow- 
 ship with them, but engross all the room, leaving neither 
 seats for the living, nor graves for the dead. It was a wise 
 and thrifty law which Reutha king of Scotland made,t that 
 noblemen should have so many pillars or long pointed stones 
 set on their sepulchres, as tliey had slain enemies in the wars, 
 [f this order were also enlarged to those who, in peace, had 
 excellently deserved of the church or commonwealth, it might 
 well be revived. 
 
 4. Over-cof^th/ tombs are only baits for sacrilege. Thus 
 sacrilege hath beheaded that peerless prince, King Henry the 
 Fifth, the body of whose statue, on his tomb in Westminster, 
 was covered over with silver plate gilded, and his head of 
 massy silver,]: both which now are stolen away. Yea, 
 hungT)' palates will feed on coarser meat. I had rather Mr. 
 Stow than I should tell you of a nobleman who sold the 
 monuments of noblemen in St. Augustine's church in Broad- 
 street,§ for a hundred pounds, which cost many thousands, 
 and in the place thereof made fair stabling for horses ; as if 
 Christ, who was born in a stable, should be brought into it 
 the second time. It was not without cause in the civil law, 
 that a wife might be divorced from her husband, if she could 
 prove him to be one that had broken the sepulchres of the 
 dead. II For it was presumed he must needs be a tjTannical 
 husband to his wife, who had not so much mercy as to spare 
 the ashes of the departed. 
 
 5. Jlie shortest, plainest, and truest epitaphs are best. I say 
 
 * Lucian, Trepl £ik:6i'wj'. 
 + Hector Boeih. in the Life of King Reutha. 
 J .T. Speed, in the End of Henry the \'th. 
 ^ In the Descript. of London, Broad-street Ward, p. 184. 
 II " Si nimirum sepulchiorutn dissolutorem esse probaverit." 
 Kirkman. de Fuaer. Roman, lib. 2. c. 26. ex Cod, de Repudiis. 
 
OF TOMBS. 153 
 the shortest; for when a passenger sees a chronicle wTitten 
 on a tomb, he takes it on trust some great man lies there 
 buried, without taking pains to examine who he is. Mr. 
 Cambden, in his Remains, presents us with examples of great 
 men that had little epitaphs.* And when once T asked a 
 witty gentleman, an honoured friend of mine, what epitaph 
 was fittest to be written on Mr. Cambden's tomb ? " Let it 
 be," said he, " Cambden's Remains." I say also the plainest; 
 for except the sense lie above ground, few will trouble them- 
 selves to dig for it. Lastly, it must be true. Not as in 
 some monuments, where the red veins in the marble may 
 seem to blush at the faleshoods written on it. He was a witty 
 man that first taught a stone to speak, but he was a wicked 
 man that taught it first to lie. 
 
 6. To want a grave is the cruelty of the living, not the 
 7msery of the dead. An English gentleman not long since 
 did lie on his death-bed in Spain, and the Jesuits did flock 
 about him to pervert him to their religion. All vv^as in vain. 
 Their last argument was, if you will not turn Roman Catholic, 
 then your body shall be unburied. Then, answered he, I 
 loill stink, and so turned his head and died. Thus love, if 
 not to the dead, to the living, will make him, if not a grave, 
 a hole : and it was the beggar's epitaph : 
 
 Nudus eram vivus, mortuus ecce tegor. 
 Naked I lived, but being dead, 
 Now behold I'm covered. 
 
 7. A good memory is the best monument. Others are sub- 
 ject to casualty and time, and we know that the pyramids 
 themselves, doting with age, have forgotten the names of 
 their founders. To conclude, let us be careful to provide 
 rest for our souls, and our bodies will provide rest for them- 
 selves. And let us not be herein like unto gentlewomen, 
 who care not to keep the inside of the orange, but candy 
 and preserve only the outside thereof. 
 
 * As," Fui ('aius." *' Scaligeri quod reliquum est." " Depo- 
 situm Cardinalis Poli," &c. 
 
154 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 LV. — Of Deformity. 
 
 DEFORMITY is either natural, voluntary, or adven- 
 titious, being either caused by God's unseen provi- 
 dence, (by men nicknamed chance,) or by man's cruelty. 
 We will take them in order. 
 
 1 . If thou beest not so handsome as thou wouldest have been, 
 thank God thou art no more unhandsome than thou art. It 
 is his mercy thou art not the mark for passengers' fingers to 
 point at, an heteroclite in nature, with some member defec- 
 tive or redundant. Be glad that thy clay cottage hath all the 
 necessary rooms thereto belonging, though the outside be not 
 so fairly plastered as some others. 
 
 2. Yet is it lawful and commendable by art to correct the 
 defects and deformities of nature. Ericthonius being a goodly 
 man from the girdle upwards, but, as the poets feign, having 
 downwards the body of a serpent (moralise him to have had 
 some defect in his feet), first invented chariots, wherein he so 
 sat that the upper parts of him might be seen, and the rest of 
 his body concealed.* Little heed is to be given to his lying 
 pen who maketh Anne Bullen, mother to Queen Elizabeth, the 
 first finder out and wearer of ruffs, to cover a wen she had in 
 her neck.f Yet the matter is not much, such an addition of 
 art being without any fraud or deceit. 
 
 3. Mock not at those who are ynishapen by nature. There 
 is the same reason of the poor and of the deformed ; he that 
 despiseth them, despiseth God that made tliem. A poor man 
 is a picture of God's own making, but set in a plain frame, 
 not gilded : a deformed man is also his workmanship, but 
 not drawn with even lines and lively colours. The former, 
 not for want of wealth, as the latter not for want of skill, but 
 both for the pleasure of the maker. As for Aristotle, || who 
 would have parents expose their deformed children to the 
 wide world witiiout caring for them, his opinion herein, not 
 only deformed but most monstrous, deserves rather to be ex- 
 posed to the scorn and contempt of all men. 
 
 * Servius,inillud Virg. Georg.iii. " Primus Ericthonius," &c. 
 t Sanders de Schism. Anglic, lib. 1. p. 17. 
 II Lib. 7. Polit. cap. 16. 
 
OF DEFORMITY. 155 
 
 4. Some people J handsome by nature, have wilfully de- 
 formed themselves. Such as wear Bacchus his colours in 
 their faces, arising not from having, but being, bad hvers. 
 When the woman (1 Kings iii. 21.) considered the child that 
 was laid by her ; Behold, said she, it was not my son which I 
 did bear. Should God survey the faces of many men and 
 women, he would not own and acknowledge them for those 
 which he created : many are so altered in colour, and some 
 in sex, women to men, and men to women, in their monstrous 
 fashions, so that they who behold them cannot by the evidence 
 of their apparel give up their verdict of what sex they are. 
 It is most safe to call the users of these hermaphroditical 
 fashions Francisses and Philips, names agreeing to both 
 sexes. 
 
 5. Confessors who wear the badges of truth, are thereby 
 made the more beautiful ; though deformed in time of persecu- 
 tion for Christ's sake through men's malice. This made Con- 
 stantine the Great to kiss the hole in the face of Paphnutius,* 
 out of which the tyrant Maximinus had bored his eye for the 
 profession of the faith ; the good emperor making much of 
 the socket, even when the candle was put out. Next these, 
 wounds in war are most honourable : Halting is the stateliest 
 march of a soldier ; and it is a brave sight to see the flesh of 
 an ancient as torn as his colours. He that mocks at the 
 marks of valour in a soldier's face, is likely to live to have the 
 brands of justice on his own shoulders. 
 
 6. Naturae oftentimes recompenseth deformed bodies with 
 excellent wits. Witness iEsop, than whose fables children 
 cannot read an easier, nor men a wiser book ; for all latter 
 moralists do but write comments upon them. Many jeering 
 wits, w^ho have thought to have rid at their ease on the bowed 
 backs of some cripples, have by their unhappy answers been 
 unhorsed and thrown flat on their own backs. A jeering 
 gentleman commended a beggar who was deformed and little 
 better than blind , for having an excellent eye : True, said the 
 beggar, _/br 1 can discern an honest man from such a knave 
 as you are. 
 
 7. Their souls have been the chapels of sanctity, whose 
 bodies have been the spitolls of deformity. An emperor of 
 
 * Ruffin.lib. 1. cap. 4. 
 
156 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Germany coming by chance on a Sunday into a church, found 
 there a most mishapen priest, perie portentum natura^ inso- 
 much as the emperor scorned and contemned him.* But 
 when he heard him read those words in the service, Tor it is 
 he that made m, and not we ourselves, the emperor checked 
 his own proud thoughts, and made inquiry into the quahty 
 and condition of the man, and finding him on examination 
 to be most learned and devout, he made him archbishop of 
 Cologne, which place he did excellently discharge. 
 
 LVI. — Of Plantations. 
 
 PLANTATIONS make mankind broader, as generation 
 makes it thicker. To advance a happy plantation, the 
 undertakers, planters, and place itself must contribute their 
 endeavours. 
 
 1. Let the pri7ne undertakers be men o f no shallow heads, 
 nor narrow for tunes. Such as have a real estate, so that, if de- 
 feated in their adventure abroad, they may have a retreating 
 place at home, and such as will be contented with their pre- 
 sent loss, to be benefactors to posterity. But if the prince 
 himself be pleased not only to wink at them with his permis- 
 sion, but also to smile on them with his encouragement, there 
 is great hope of success : for then he will grant them some 
 immunities and privileges. Otherwise (infants must be 
 swathed not laced) young plantations will never grow, if 
 straitened with as hard laws as settled commonwealths. 
 
 2. Let the planters be honest , skilful, and painful people. 
 For if they be such as leap thither from the gallows, can any 
 hope for cream out of scum, when men send, as I may say. 
 Christian savages to heathen savages? It was rather bitterly 
 than falsely spoken concerning one of our western plantations, 
 consisting most of dissolute people, that it ivas very like unto 
 England, as being spit out of the very mouth of it. Nor 
 must the planters be only honest, but industrious also. 
 What hope is there that they who were drones at home, will 
 be bees abroad, especially if far off from any to oversee 
 them ? 
 
 3. Let the place be naturally strong, or at leastwise ca- 
 
 * Guliel. Malm. lib. 2. cap. 10. 
 
OF PLANTATIONS. 157 
 
 puble of fortification. For though at the first planters are 
 sufficiently fenced with their own poverty, and though at the 
 beginning their worst enemies will spare them out of pity to 
 themselves, their spoil not countervailing the cost of spoiling 
 them ; yet when once they have gotten wealth, they must get 
 strength to defend it. Here know, islands are easily shut, 
 whereas continents have their doors ever open, not to be bolted 
 without great charges. Besides, unadvised are those planters 
 who, having choice of ground, have built their towns in places 
 of a servile nature, as being overawed and constantly com- 
 manded by some hills about them. 
 
 4. Let it have a self-siifficiemy, or some staple commodity 
 to balance traffic with other countries. As for a self-suffi- 
 ciency, few countries can stand alone, and such as can for 
 matter of want, will for wantonness lean on others. Staple 
 commodities are such as are never out of fashion, as belonging 
 to a man's being ; being with comfort, being with delight, the 
 luxury of our age having made superfluities necessary. And 
 such a place will thrive the better, when men may say with 
 Isaac, Hehoboth, Now the Lord hath made room for us,* when 
 new colonies come not in with extirpation of the natives ; for 
 this is rather a supplanting than a planting. 
 
 5. Let the planters labour to be loved and feared of the 
 natives. With whom let them use all just bargaining, being 
 as naked in their dealings with them as the other in their 
 going, keeping all covenants, performing all promises with 
 them: let them embrace all occasions to convert them, know- 
 ing that each convert is a conquest ; and it is more honour 
 to overcome paganism in one, than to conquer a thousand 
 pagans. As for the inscription of a Deity in their hearts, it 
 need not be new written, but only new scoured in them. I 
 am confident that America, though the youngest sister of the 
 four, is now grown marriageable, and daily hopes to get 
 Christ to her husband, by the preaching of the gospel. This 
 makes me attentively to listen after some protestants' first- 
 fruits, in hope the harvest will ripen afterwards. 
 
 * Gen. xxvi.22. 
 
168 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 LVII. — Of Coxtektment. 
 
 IT is one property which, they say, is required of those 
 who seek for the philosopher's stone, that they must not 
 do it with any covetous desire to be rich ; for otherwise they 
 shall never find it. But most true it is that whosoever would 
 have this jewel of contentment, which turns all into gold, yea 
 want into wealth, must come with minds divested of all am- 
 bitious and covetous thoughts, else are they never likely to 
 obtain it. We will describe contentment first, negatively : 
 
 1. It is not a senseless stupidity what becomes of our out- 
 ward estates. God would have us take notice of all accidents 
 which from him happen to us in worldly matters. Had the 
 martyrs had the dead palsy before they went to tlie stake to 
 be burnt, their sufferings had not been so glorious. 
 
 2. It is not a word-braving, or scorning of all wecdth in 
 discourse. Generally those who boast most of contentment, 
 have least of it. Their very boasting shews that they want 
 something, and basely beg it, namely, commendation. 
 These in their language are like unto kites in their flying, 
 which mount in the air so scornfully as if they disdained to 
 stoop for the whole earth, fetching about many stately circuits : 
 but what is the spirit these conjurers, with so many circles, 
 intend to raise ? A poor chicken, or perchance a piece of car- 
 rion : and so the height of the other's proud boasting will 
 humble itself for a little base gain. 
 
 3. But it is a humble and willing submitting ourselves to 
 God's pleasure in all conditions. One observeth (how truly 
 I dispute not) that the French naturally have so elegant and 
 graceful a carriage, that what posture of body soever in 
 their salutations, or what fashion of attire soever they are 
 pleased to take on them, it doth so beseem them, that one 
 would think nothing can become them better. Thus content- 
 ment makes men carry themselves gracefully in wealth, want, 
 in health, sickness, freedom, fetters, yea what condition soever 
 God allots them. 
 
 4. It is no breach of contentment for nmi to complain that 
 their sufferings are unjust, as offered bi/ men : provided they 
 allow them for just, as proceeding from God, who useth 
 wicked men's injustice to correct his children. But let us 
 
OF CONTENTMENT. 159 
 take heed that we bite not so high at the handle of the rod, 
 as to fasten on his hand that holds it; our discontent- 
 ments mounting so high as to quarrel with God himself. 
 
 5. It is no breach of contentment for ttien by lawful means 
 to seek the removal of their misery, and bettering of their 
 estate. Thus men ought by industry to endeavour the getting 
 of more wealth, ever submitting themselves to God's will. A 
 lazy hand is no argument of a contented heart. Indeed, he 
 that is idle, and foUoweth after vain persons shall have enough ; 
 but how? Shall have poverty enough; Prov. xxviiii. 19. 
 
 God's Spirit is the best schoolmaster to teach contentment : 
 a schoolmaster who can make good scholars, and warrant 
 the success as well as his endeavour. The school of sanc- 
 tified afflictions is the best place to learn contentment in : I 
 say, sanctified ; for naturally, like restive horses, we go the 
 worse for the beating, if God bless not afflictions unto us. 
 
 7. Contentment consisteth not in adding more fuel, but in 
 taking aivay some fire ; not in multiplying of wealth, but in 
 subtracting men's desires. Worldly riches, like nuts, tear 
 many clothes in getting them, spoil many teeth in cracking 
 them, but fill no belly with eating them; obstructing only 
 the stomach with toughness, and filling the guts with windi- 
 ness : yea, our souls may sooner surfeit than be satisfied with 
 earthly things. He that at first thought ten thousand pounds 
 too much for any one man, will afterwards think ten millions 
 too little for himself. 
 
 8. Men create more discontents to themselves, than ever 
 happened to them for others. We read of our Saviour, that at 
 the burial of Lazarus (John xi. 33), irdpaltv kavrov, he 
 troubled himself by his spirit raising his own passions, though 
 without any ataxy or sinful disturbance. What was an act of 
 power in him, is an act of weakness in other men : Man dis- 
 quieteth himself in vain, with many causeless and needless 
 afflictions. 
 
 9. Pious meditations much advantage contentment in ad- 
 versity. Such as these are, to consider first, that more are 
 beneath us than above us ; secondly, many of God's dear 
 saints have been in the same condition ; thirdly, we want 
 rather superfluities than necessities; fourthly, the more we 
 have the more we must account for ; fifthly, earthly bless- 
 ings, through man's corruption, are more prone to be abused 
 
160 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 than well used. In some fenny places in England, where 
 they are much troubled with gnats, they used to hang up 
 dung in the midst of the room for a bait for the gnats to fly 
 to, and so catch them with a net provided for the purpose. 
 Thus the devil ensnareth the souls of many men, by alluring 
 them with the muck and dung of this world, to undo them 
 eternally. Sixthly, We must leave all earthly wealth at our 
 death, and riches avail not in the day of wrath. But as some 
 use to fill up the stamp of light gold with dirt, thereby to 
 make it weigh the heavier, so it seems some men load their 
 souls with thick clay, to make them pass the better in God's 
 balance, but all to no purpose. Seventhly, The less we have 
 tlie less it will grieve us to leave this world : lastly, it is the will 
 of God, and therefore both for his glory and our good, whereof 
 we ought to be assured, I have heard how a gentleman, 
 travelling in a misty morning, asked of a shepherd (such men 
 being generally skilled in the physiognomy of the heavens) 
 what weather it would be? It will he, said the shepherd, 
 what weather shall please me; and being courteously re- 
 quested to express his meaning ; Sir, saith he, it shall be what 
 weather pleaseth God, and what iceather pleaseth God,plea- 
 seth me. Thus contentment maketh men to have even what 
 they think fitting themselves, because submitting to God's 
 will and pleasure. 
 
 To conclude, a man ought to be like unto a cunning actor> 
 who, if he be enjoined to represent the person of some prince 
 or nobleman, does it with a grace and comeliness; if by and 
 by he be commanded to lay that aside, and play the beggar, 
 he does that as willingly and as well. But as it happened 
 in a tragedy (to spare naming the person and place) that one 
 being to act Theseus, in Hercules Furens, coming out of hell, 
 could not for a long time be persuaded to wear old sooty 
 clothes proper to his part, but would needs come out of hell 
 in a white satin doublet ; so we are generally loth, and it goes 
 against flesh and blood to live in a low and poor estate, but 
 would fain act in richer and handsomer clothes, till grace, 
 with much ado, subdues our rebellious stomachs to God's 
 will. 
 
161 
 
 LVIII.-Of Books. 
 
 SOLOMON saith truly, Of making many hooks there is 
 no end, so insatiable is the thirst of men therein : as also 
 endless is the desire of many in buying and reading them. 
 But we come to our rules. 
 
 1. It is a vanity to persuade the world one hath much learn- 
 ing, by getting a great library. As soon shall I believe every 
 one is valiant that hath a well furnished armoury. I guess 
 good housekeeping by the smoking, not the number of the 
 tunnels, as knowing that many of them, built merely for uni- 
 formity, are without chimneys, and more without fires. Once 
 a dunce void of learning but full of books flouted a libraryless 
 scholar with these words : Salve doctor sine libris. But the 
 next day the scholar coming into this jeerer's study, crowded 
 with books ; Salvete lib?'i, saith he, sine doctore. 
 
 2. Few books, well selected, are best. Yet, as a certain fool 
 bought all the pictures that came out, because he might have 
 his choice, such is the vain humour of many men in gather- 
 ing of books : yet when they have done all, they miss their 
 end, it being in the editions of authors as in the fashions of 
 clothes, when a man thinks he hath gotten the latest and 
 newest, presently another newer comes out. 
 
 3. So7ne books are only cursorily to be tasted of. Namely 
 first, voluminous books, the task of a man's life to read them 
 over; secondly, auxiliary books, only to be repaired to on 
 occasions ; thirdly, such as are mere pieces of formality, so 
 that if you look on them, you look through them; and he 
 that peeps through the casement of the index, sees as much 
 as if he were in the house. But the laziness of those cannot 
 be excused who perfunctorily pass over authors of conse- 
 quence, and only trade in their tables and contents. These, 
 like city-cheaters, having gotten the names of all country gen- 
 tlemen, make silly people believe they have long lived in those 
 places where they never were, and flourish with skill in those 
 authors they never seriously studied. 
 
 4. The genius of the author is commonly discovered in the 
 j dedicatory epistle. Many place the purest grain in the mouth 
 
 of the sack for chapmen to handle or buy : and from the de- 
 dication one may probably guess at the work, saving some 
 
 1 
 
162 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 rare and peculiar exceptions. Tlius, when once a gentleman 
 admired how so pithy, learned, and ^itty a dedication was 
 matched to a flat, dull, foolish book ; In truth, said another, 
 thei/ may be well matched together, for I profess they are 
 nothing akin. 
 
 5. Proportion an hours meditation to an hoards reading of 
 a staple author. This makes a man master of his learning, 
 and dispirits the book into the scholar. The king of Sweden 
 never filed his men above six deep in one company, because 
 he would not have them lie in useless clusters in his army, 
 but so that every particular soldier might be drawn out into 
 service.* Books that stand thin on the shelves, yet so as the 
 owner of them can bring forth every one of them into use, are 
 better than far greater libraries. 
 
 6. Learning hath gained most by those books by which the 
 printers have lost. Arius Montanus, in printing the Hebrew 
 Bible, commonly called the Bible of the king of Spain, much 
 wasted himself, and was accused in the court of Rome for 
 liis good deed, and being cited thither, Pro tantorum labo- 
 rum pramio vix veniam impetravit.f Likewise Christopher 
 Plantin, by printing of his curious interlineary Bible, in Ant- 
 werp, through the unseasonable exactions of the king's officers, 
 sunk and almost ruined his estate. | And our worthy English 
 knight, who set forth the golden-mouthed father in a silver 
 print, was a loser by it. 
 
 7. Whereas foolish pamphlets prove most beneficial to the 
 printers. When a French printer complained that he was 
 utterly undone by printing a solid serious book of Rabelais 
 concerning physic, Rabelais, to make him recompense, made 
 that his jesting scurrilous work, which repaired the printer's 
 loss with advantage. Such books the world swarms too much 
 with. When one had set out a witless pamphlet, writing 
 finis at the end thereof, another wittily wrote beneath it, 
 
 Nay there thou liest, my friend, 
 
 In writing foolish books there is no end. 
 And surely such scurrilous scandalous papers do more than 
 
 * Ward's Animadver. of War, sect. 17. lib. 2. cap. 5. 
 + Thuanus, Obit. Vir. Doct. anno 1598. 
 i Idem, in eodem Oper. anno 1589. 
 
OF BOOKS. 163 
 conceivable mischief. First, their lusciousness puts many 
 palates out of taste, that they can never after relish any solid 
 and wholesome writers ; ^econdly, they cast dirt on the faces 
 of many innocent persons, which dried on by continuance 
 of time can never after be washed off ; thirdly, the pamphlets 
 of this age may pass for records with the next, because pub- 
 licly uncontrolled, and what we laugh at, our children may 
 believe : fourthly, grant the things true they jeer at, yet this 
 music is unlawful in any Christian church, to play upon 
 the sins and miseries of others, the fitter object of the elegies 
 than the satires of all truly religious. 
 
 But what do I speaking against multiplicity of books in 
 this age, who trespass in this nature myself? What was a 
 learned man's compliment, may serve for my confession and 
 conclusion : Multi mei similes hoc morbo laborant, ut cum 
 scribere nesciant tamen a scribendo temperare non possint.* 
 
 LIX. — Of Time-serving. 
 
 ^T^HERE be four kinds of time-serving : first, out of Chris- 
 J- tian discretion, which is commendable ; second, out of 
 human infirmity, which is more pardonable; third, and 
 fourth, out of ignorance, or affectation, both which are damn- 
 able : of them in order. 
 
 1 . He is a good time-server that complies his manners to the 
 several ages of this life : pleasant in youth, without wanton- 
 ness ; grave in old age, without frowardness. Frost is as pro- 
 per for winter, as flowers for spring. Gravity becomes the 
 ancient; and a green Christmas is neither handsome nor 
 healthful. 
 
 2. He is a good time-server that finds out the fittest oppor- 
 tunity for every action. God hath made a time for every 
 thing under the sun, save only for that which we do at ail 
 times, to wit, sin. 
 
 3. He is a good time-server that improves the present for 
 God's glory and his own salvation. Of all the extent of time 
 only the instant is that which we can call ours. 
 
 4. He is a good time-server that is pliant to the times in 
 matters of mere indifi'erency . To blame are they whose 
 
 * Erasmus, in Prcefat. in 3. seriem 4. torni Hieron. p. 408. 
 
164 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 minds may seem to be made of one entire bone, without any 
 joints : they cannot bend at all, but stand as stiffly in things 
 of pure indifferency, as in matters <^ absolute necessity. 
 
 5. He is a good time-server that in time of persecution 
 neither betrays God's cause, nor his own safety. And this he 
 may do, 
 
 1. By lying hid both in his person and practice : though 
 he will do no evil, he will forbear the public doing of some 
 good. lie hath as good cheer in liis heart, though he 
 keeps not open house, and will not publicly broach his re- 
 ligion, till the palate of the times be better in taste to relish 
 it. The prudent shall keep silence in that time, it is 
 an evil time.* Though, according to St. Peter's command, 
 we are to give a reason of our hope to every one that usketk ;\ 
 namely, that asketh for his instruction, but not for our de- 
 struction, especially if wanting lawful authority to examine 
 us. Ye shall be bi^ought, saith Christ (no need have they 
 therefore to run), before princes for my sake-X 
 
 2. By flying away : if there be no absolute necessity of 
 his staying, no scandal given by his flight ; if he wants 
 strength to stay it out till death ; and lastly, if God openeth 
 a fair way for his departure : otherwise, if God bolts the 
 doors and windows against him, he is not to creep out at 
 the top of the chimney, and to make his escape by unwar- 
 rantable courses. If all should fly, truth would want cham- 
 pions for the present ; if none should fly, truth might want 
 champions for the future. We come now to time-servers 
 out of infirmity. 
 
 6. Heart of oak hath sometimes warped a little in the scorch- 
 ing heat o f persecution. Their want of true courage herein 
 cannot be excused. Yet many censure them for surrender- 
 ing up their forts after a long siege, who would have yielded 
 up their own at the first summons. Oh, there is more re- 
 quired to make one valiant, than to call Cranmer or Jewell 
 coward, as if the fire in Smithfield had been no hotter than 
 what is painted in the Book of INIartyrs. 
 
 7. Yet aftei^ards they have come into their former straight- 
 7iess and stiff'ness. The troops, which at first rather wheeled 
 about than ran away, have come in seasonable at last. Yea, 
 
 * Amos V. 13. t 1 Pet. iii. 15. t ^atl. x. 18. 
 
OF TIME-SERVING. 165 
 their constant blushing for shame of their former cowardUness 
 hath made their souls ever after look more modest and beau- 
 tiful. Thus Cranmer, who subscribed to popery, grew valiant 
 afterwards, and thrust his right hand, which subscribed first, 
 into fire, so that that hand died, as it were, a malefactor, and 
 all the rest of his body died a martyr. 
 
 8. Some have served the times out of mere ignorance. Ga- 
 ping, for company, as others gaped before them, Pater noster, 
 or. Our Father. I could both sigh and smile at the witty 
 simplicity of a poor old woman who had lived in the days of 
 Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, and said her prayers 
 daily both in Latin and English ; and Let God, said she, take 
 to him self which he likes best. 
 
 9. But worst are those who serve the times out of ynere 
 affectation. Doing as the times do, not because the times 
 do as they should do, but merely for sinister respects, to ingra- 
 tiate themselves. We read of an Earl of Oxford fined by 
 King Henry the Seventh, fifteen thousand marks for having 
 too many retainers. But how many retainers hath time had 
 in all ages, and servants in all offices, yea, and chaplains 
 too !* 
 
 10. It is a very difficult thing to serve the times; they 
 change so frequently, so suddenly, and sometimes so vio- 
 lently from one extreme to another. The times under Dio- 
 clesian were pagan ; under Constantine, Christian ; under 
 Constantius, Arian; under Julian, apostate: under Jovian, 
 Christian again, and all within the age of man, the term of 
 seventy years. And would it not have wrenched and sprained 
 his soul with short turning, who in all these should have been 
 of the religion _/br the time being. 
 
 11. Time-servers are oftentimes left in the lurch. If they 
 do not only give their word for the times in their constant 
 discourses, but also give their bonds for them, and write in 
 their defence. Such, when the times turn afterwards to ano- 
 ther extreme, are left in the briers, and come off very hardly 
 from the bill of their hands ; if they turn again with the times, 
 none will trust them ; for who will make a staff of an osier ? 
 
 12. Miserable will be the condition of such time-servers, 
 when their master is taken from them. V>'hen, as the angel 
 
 * Lord Bacon, in Henry Seventh, p. 211. 
 
166 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 swore (Rev. x. 6.) that time shall be no longer. Therefore 
 is it best serving of Him who is eternity, a master that can 
 ever protect us. 
 
 To conclude, he that intends to meet with one in a great 
 fair, and knows not where he is, may sooner find him by 
 standing still in some principal place there, than by traversing 
 it up and down. Take thy stand on some good ground in 
 religion, and keep thy station in a fixed posture, never hunt- 
 ing after the times to follow them, and a hundred to one they 
 will come to thee once in thy lifetime. 
 
 LX. — Of Moderation. 
 
 MODERATION is the silken string running through 
 the pearl chain of all virtues.* It appears both in 
 practice and judgment : we will insist on the latter, and 
 describe it first negatively. 
 
 1. Moderation is not a halting betwixt two opinions, when 
 the thorough believing of one of them is necessary to salvation : 
 no pity is to be shewn to such voluntary cripples. We read 
 (Acts xxvii. 12.) of a haven in Crete which lay towards the 
 south-west, and towards the north-west ; strange, that it could 
 have part of two opposite points, north and south : sure it must 
 be very winding. And thus some men's souls are in such 
 intricate postures, they lay towards the papists and towards 
 the protestants ; such we count not of a moderate judgment, 
 but of an immoderate unsettledness. 
 
 2. Nor is it a lukewarmness in those things wherein God's 
 glory is concerned. Herein it is a true rule, Non amat qui 
 non zelat.f And they that are thus lukewarm here, shall be 
 too hot hereafter in that oven wherein dough-baked cakes shdM 
 be burnt. 
 
 3. But it is a mixture of discretion and charity in one^s 
 judgment. Discretion puts a difference betwixt things abso- 
 lutely necessary to salvation to be done and believed, and those 
 which are of a second sort and lower form, wherein more liberty 
 and latitude is allowed. In maintaining whereof, the stiffness 
 of the judgment is abated, and suppled with charity towards 
 
 * Bishop Hall, of Christian Moderation, p. 6. 
 t Augustin. contra Adamant, cap. 13. 
 
OF MODERATION. 167 
 his neighbour. The lukewarm man eyes only his own ends, 
 and particular profit; the moderate man aims at the good of 
 others, and unity of the church. 
 
 4. Yet such moderate men are commonly crushed betwixt 
 the extreme parties on both sides. But what said Ignatius ? 
 / am Christ's wheat, and must be ground with the teeth of 
 beasts, that I may be made God's pure manchet* Saints aie 
 born to suffer, and must take it patiently. Besides, in this 
 world generally they get the least preferment; it faring with 
 them as with the guest that sat in the midst of the table, who 
 could reach to neither mess, above or beneath him : 
 
 Esuriunt Medii, Jines bene sunt saturati ; 
 
 Dixerunt stulti, medium tenuere beati. 
 
 Both ends of the table fumish'd are with meat, 
 
 Whilst they in middle nothing have to eat. 
 
 They were none of the wisest well I wist, ^ 
 
 Who made bliss in the middle to consist. 
 
 Yet these temporal inconveniences of moderation are 
 abundantly recompensed with other better benefits : for 
 
 1. A well informed judgment in itself is a preferment. 
 Potamon began a sect of philosophers called 'EKXtKrtKroi,t 
 who wholly adhered to no former sect, but chose out of all 
 of them what they thought best. Surely such divines who 
 in unimportant controversies extract the most probable opi- 
 nions fi-om all professions, are best at ease in their minds. 
 
 2. As the moderate man's temporal hopes are not great, 
 so his fears are the less. He fears not to have the splinters 
 of his party, when it breaks, fly into his eyes, or to be buried 
 under the ruins of his side, if suppressed. He never pinned 
 his religion on any man's sleeve, no not on the arm ofjiesh, 
 and therefore is free from all dangerous engagements. 
 
 3. His conscience is clear from raising schisms in the 
 church. The Turks did use to wonder much at our 
 Enghshmen for pinking or cutting their clothes, counting 
 them little better than mad for their pains to make holes in 
 whole cloth, which time of itself would tear too soon.| 
 
 * Ireuaeus, lib. 5. 
 
 t Diog. Laert. in fine Prooetnii. 
 
 ^ Bidulph, in his Travel to Jerusalem, p. 98. 
 
168 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 But grant men may do with their own garments as their 
 fancy adviseth them, yet wo be to such who willingly cut 
 and rend the seamless coat of Christ with dissensions ! 
 
 4. His religion is more constant and durable; being 
 here, in via, in his way to heaven, and jogging on a good 
 traveller's pace he overtakes and outgoes many violent 
 men, whose over-hot ill-grounded zeal was quickly tired. 
 
 5. In matters of moment, indeed, none are more zealous. 
 He thriftily treasured up his spirits for that time, who if he 
 had formerly rent his lungs for every trifle, he would have 
 wanted breath in points of importance. 
 
 6. Once in an age the moderate man is in fashion, each 
 extreme courts him to make them friends; and surely he 
 hath a great advantage to be a peacemaker betwixt opposite 
 parties. Now whilst, as we have said, moderate men are 
 constant to themselves, 
 
 % 5. Violent men reel from one extremity to another. Who 
 would think that the East and West Indies were so near toge- 
 ther, whose names speak them at diametrical opposition ? 
 And yet their extremities are either the same continent, or 
 parted with a very narrow sea. As the world is round, so 
 we may observe a circulation in opinions, and violent men 
 turn often round in their tenets. 
 
 6. Pride is the greatest enemy to moderation. This makes 
 men stickle for their opinions, to make them fundamental : 
 proud men, having deeply studied some additional point in 
 divinity, will strive to make the same necessary to salvation, 
 to enhance the value of their own worth and pains ; and it 
 must be fundamental in religion, because it is fundamental to 
 their reputation. Yea, as love doth descend, and men dote 
 most on their grandchildren, so these are indulgent to the de- 
 ductions of their deductions, and consequential inferences, to 
 the seventh generation, making them all of the foundation, 
 though scarce of the building of religion. Ancient fathers 
 made the Creed, symbolum, the shot and total sum of faith. f 
 Since which how many arrearages, and after-reckonings have 
 men brought us in ? to which, if we will not pay our belief, our 
 
 t Irensus, cap. 2, 3 ; Tertull. de Virgin. Velan ; Hilarius ad 
 Constant. ; August. Taur. Maxim. Serm. de Symbolo ; August. 
 Seim. 2. et 1081, de Tempore. 
 
OF MODERATION. 169 
 souls must be arrested without bail upon pain of damnation ? 
 Next to pride, popular applause is the greatest foe moderation 
 hath, and sure they who sail with that wind have their own 
 vain-glory for their haven. 
 
 To close up all, let men, on God's blessing, soundly yet 
 wisely, whip and lash lukewarmness and time-serving, their 
 thongs will never fly in the face of true moderation, to do it 
 any harm ; for however men may undervalue it, that father 
 spake most truly : Si virtutum finis ille sit maximus, qui plu- 
 rimorum spectat profectum, moderatio prope omnium pulcher- 
 rima est.^ 
 
 LXI.— Of Gravity. 
 
 GRAVITY is the ballast of the soul, which keeps the mind 
 steady. It is either true or counterfeit. 
 
 1. Natural dulness, and heaviness of temper, is sometimes 
 mistaken for true gravity : in such men, in whose constitu- 
 tions one of the retrarch elements,^re, may seem to be omitted. 
 These sometimes not only cover their defects, but get praise : 
 
 Scepe latet vitium proximitate boni. 
 
 They do wisely to counterfeit a reservedness, and to keep 
 their chests always locked, not for fear any should steal trea- 
 sure thence, but lest some should look in and see that there 
 is nothing within them. But they who are bom eunuchs, 
 deserve no such great commendation for their chastity. Won- 
 der not so much that such men are grave, but wonder at them 
 if they be not grave. 
 
 2. Affected gravity passes often for that which is true : I 
 mean with dull eyes, for in itself nothing is more ridiculous. 
 When one shall use the preface of a mile, to bring in a furlong 
 of matter, set his face and speech in a fi-ame, and to make 
 men believe it is some precious liquor, their words come out 
 drop by drop : such men's vizards do sometimes fall from 
 them, not without the laughter of the beholders. One was 
 called gravity for his affected solemnness, who afterwards being 
 catched in a light prank, was ever after to the day of his deatii 
 called gravity-levity. 
 
 * Ambros. de Poeniten. contra Novat. lib. 1. cap. 1. 
 
170 THE HOLT STATE. 
 
 3. True gravity expresseth itself in gait, gesture, apparel, 
 and speech. Vox qu^edam est animiy corporis motus.* As for 
 speech, gravity enjoins it, 
 
 1. Not to be over much. In the multitude of words there 
 wanttth not sin.f For of necessity many of them must 
 be idle, whose best commendation is that they are good for 
 nothing. Besides, Dum otiosa verba carere ncgligimus, ad 
 no.ria ptvvenimus.l And great talkers discharge too thick 
 to take always true aim ; besides, it is odious in a company. 
 A man full of words, who took himself to be a grand wit, 
 made bis brag that he was the leader of tlie discourse in what 
 company so<^ver he came ; and Xone, said he, dare speak in 
 mi/ prtsence, if I hold mi/ peace. No xconder, answered 
 one, /or tha/ are all struck dumb at the miracle of i/our 
 silence. 
 
 '2. To be wise and discreet : Colossians iv. 6. Let your 
 speech be ahcays with grace, seasoned xcith salt. AltcaySy 
 not only sometimes, in the company of godly men. Tindal's 
 being in the room, hindered a juggler, that he could not 
 play his feats :§ a saint's presence stops the devil's elbow- 
 i-oora to do his tricks ; and so some wicked men are awed 
 iuto good discourse whilst pious people are present. But 
 it must be always seasoned icith salt, which is the primwn 
 vivens et ultimuni moriens at a feast, tirst brought and last 
 taken away, and set in the midst as most necessary there- 
 unto. With salt, that is, witli wisdom and discretion, non 
 salibus, std sale ; nor yet with smarting jeers, like those 
 whose discourse is Jire-salty speaking constant satires to the 
 disgrace of others. 
 
 4. That may be done pricately iciihout breach of gravity, 
 tchich may not be done publicly. As when a father makes 
 himself his child's rattle, sporting vrith him till the father hath 
 devoured the wise man in him. 
 
 Equitans in arundine longa. 
 
 Instead of stately steed, 
 Riding upon a reed. 
 
 Making play unto him, that one would think he killed his 
 
 * Arabros. de OtJic. lib. 1. cap. IS. + Pror. x. 19. 
 
 ; Greg. Moral, lib. 7. cap. 17. ^ Fox's Martyrs, p. 1079. 
 
OF GRAVITY. 171 
 
 own discretion to bring his child asleep. Such cases are no 
 trespass on gravity, and married men may claim their privi- 
 lege to be judged by their peers, and may herein appeal from 
 the censuring verdict of bachelors. 
 
 5. Natw^e in men is sometimes unjustly taxed for a trespass 
 against gravity. Some have active spirits, yea, their ordinary 
 pace is a race. Others have so scornful a caniage, that he 
 who seeth them once may think them to be all pride, whilst 
 he that seeth them often knows them to have none. Others 
 have, perchance, a misbeseeming garb in gesture, which they 
 cannot amend ; that fork needing strong tines wherewith one 
 must thrust away nature. A fourth sort are of a merry cheer- 
 ful disposition ; and God forbid all such should be con- 
 demned for lightness ! O let not any envious eye disinherit 
 men of that which is their portion in this life* comfortably 
 to enjoy the blessings thereof. Yet gravity must prune, though 
 not root out our mirth. 
 
 6. Gracious deportment may sometimes unjustly be accused 
 of lightness. Had one seen David dancing before the ark,f 
 Elijah in his praying posture, when he put his head betwixt 
 his legs, perchance he might have condemned them of un- 
 fitting behaviour.! Had he seen Peter and John posting to 
 Christ's grave,§ Rhoda running into the house, he would 
 have thought they had left their gravity behind them.|| But 
 let none blame them for their speed until he knows what were 
 their spurs, and what were the motives that urged them to 
 make such haste. These their actions were the true con- 
 clusions, following from some inward premises in their own 
 souls ; and that may be a syllogism in grace, which appears 
 a solecism in manners. 
 
 7. In some persons gravity is most necessary, viz. in ma- 
 gistrates and ministers. One Palevizine, an Italian gentle- 
 man,*!! and kinsman to Scaliger, had in one night all his hair 
 changed from black to gray. Such an alteration ought there 
 to be in the heads of every one that enters into holy orders, 
 or public office, metamorphosed from all lightness to gravity. 
 
 8. God alone is the giver of true gravity. No man wants 
 
 • Eccles. vii. 18. t 2 Sam. vi. 16. 
 
 X 1 Kings xviii. 42. § John xx. 14. 
 
 II Acts xii. 14. ii Scaliger de Subtil, p. 18. 
 
172 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 so much of any grace as he batb to spare ; and a constant 
 impression of God's omnipresence is an excellent way to fix 
 men's souls. Bishop Andrews ever placed the picture of 
 Mulcaster, his schoolmaster, over the door of his study 
 (whereas, in all the rest of his house you should scarce see a 
 picture), as to be his tutor and supervisor.f Let us con- 
 stantly apprehend God's being in presence, and this will 
 fright us into staid behaviour. 
 
 LXII. — Of Marriage. 
 
 SOME men have too much decried marriage, as if she, 
 the mother, were scarce worthy to wait on virginity her 
 daughter, and as if it were an advancement for marriage to be 
 preferred before fornication, and praise enough for her to be 
 adjudged lawful. Give this holy estate her due, and then we 
 shall find, 
 
 1. Though bachelors be the strongest stakes, married men 
 are the best binders in the hedge of the commonwealth . It is 
 the policy of the Londoners, when they send a ship into the 
 Levant or jNIediterranean sea, to make every mariner therein 
 a merchant, each seaman adventuring somewhat of his own, 
 which will make him more wary to avoid, and more valiant 
 to undergo dangers. Thus married men, especially if having 
 posterity, are the deeper sharers in that state wherein they 
 live, which engageth their affections to the greater loyalty. 
 
 2. It is the u'orst clandestine man^iage ichen God is not 
 invited to it. Wherefore beforehand beg his gracious assist- 
 ance. Marriage shall prove no lottery to thee, when the hand 
 of Providence chooseth for thee, who, if drawing a blank, can 
 turn it into a prize, by sanctifying a bad wife unto thee. 
 
 3. Deceive not thyself by over-expecting happiness in the 
 married estate. Look not therein for contentment greater 
 than God will give, or a creature in this world can receive, 
 namely, to be free from all inconveniences. Marriage is not 
 like the hill Olympus, o\oq Xai-nrpbg, xchoUy clear, without 
 clouds ; yea, expect both wind and storms sometimes, which 
 when blown over, the air is the clearer and wholesomer for it. 
 ;Make account of certain cares and troubles which will attend 
 
 t Vide in the Funeral Sermon on him, p. 18. 
 
OF MARRIAGE. 173 
 thee. Remember the nightingales, which sing only some 
 months in the spring, but commonly are silent when they 
 have hatched their eggs, as if their mirth were turned into 
 care for their young ones. Yet all the molestations of mar- 
 riage are abundantly recompensed with other comforts which 
 God bestoweth on them who make a wise choice of a wife, 
 and observe the following rules : 
 
 4. Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy 
 affections. For love which hath ends will have an end ; 
 whereas that which is founded in true virtue will always 
 continue. Some hold it unhappy to be married with a dia- 
 mond ring, perchance (if there be so much reason in their 
 folly) because the diamond hinders the roundness of the 
 ring, ending the infiniteness thereof, and seems to presage 
 some termination in their love, which ought ever to endure, 
 and so it will when it is founded in religion. 
 
 5. Neither choose allj nor not at all for beauty. Acried- 
 up beauty makes more for her own praise than her husband's 
 profit. They tell us of a floating island in Scotland : but 
 sure no wise pilot will cast anchor there, lest the land swim 
 away with his ship. So are they served, and justly enough, 
 who only fasten their love on fading beauty, and both fail to- 
 gether. 
 
 G. Let there be no great disproportion in age. They that 
 marry ancient people merely in expectation to bury them, 
 hang themselves in hope that one will come and cut the 
 halter. Nor is God's ordinance, but man's abusing thereof, 
 taxed in this homely expression used by the apostle himself. 
 If virginity, enforced above the parties' power, be termed by 
 St. Paul a snaie or halter,* marriage is no better when 
 against one's will, for private respects. 
 
 7. Lei wealth in its due distance be regarded. There be 
 two towns in the land of Liege, called Bovins and Dinant, the 
 inliabitants whereof bear almost an incredible hatred one to 
 another, and yet, notwithstanding, their children usually 
 marry together ; and the reason is, because there is none other 
 good town or wealthy place near them.f Thus parents for a 
 little pelf often marry their children to those whose persons 
 
 * 'Ovx iva jBpoxov vfilv £7ri€a\w. — 1 Cor. vii. 35. 
 t Phil. Com. lib. 2. cap. 1. 
 
174 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 they hate ; and thus union betwixt families is not made, but 
 
 the breach rather widened the more. 
 
 This shall serve for a conclusion. A bachelor was 
 saying, Next to no wife, a good wife is best. Nay, said a 
 gentlewoman, next to a good wife, no wife is the best. I 
 wish to all married people the outward happiness which 
 (anno 1605) happened to a couple in the city of Delph,in 
 Holland,t living most lovingly together seventy-five years 
 in wedlock, till the man being one hundred and three, the 
 woman ninety-nine years of age, died within three hours 
 each of other, and were buried in the same grave. 
 
 LXni.— Of Fame. 
 
 FAME is the echo of actions, resounding them to the 
 world, save that the echo repeats only the last part, but 
 fame relates all, and often more than all. 
 
 1. Fame sometimes hath created something of nothing. 
 She hath made whole countries more than ever nature did, 
 especially near the poles, and then hath peopled them likewise 
 with inhabitants of her own invention, pigmies, giants, and 
 amazons : yea, fame is sometimes like unto a kind of mush- 
 room, which Pliny recounts to be the greatest miracle in 
 nature, because growing and having no root,| as fame no 
 ground of her reports. 
 
 2. Fame often makes a great deal of a little. Absalom 
 killed one of David's sons, and fame killed all the rest ; § and 
 generally she magnifies and multiplies matters. Loud was 
 that lie which that bell told hanging in a clock-house at 
 Westminster, and usually rung at the coronation and funerals 
 of princes, having this inscription about it : 
 
 King Edward made me 
 Thirty thousand and three ; 
 Take me down and weigh me, 
 And more shall you find me. 
 But when this bell was taken down at the doomsday of 
 
 t Thuan. de Obit. Vir Doct. in eod. anno, p. 185. 
 X " In miraculis vel maximum est tubera nasci et vivere sine 
 ulla radice."— Plin. Nat. liist. fib. 19. cap. 2. 
 § 2 Sam. xiii. 30. 
 
OF FAME. 175 
 abbeys, this and two more were found not to weigh twenty 
 thousand.* Many relations of fame are found to shrink ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 3. Some fames are most difficult to trace home to their 
 form : and those who have sought to track them, have gone 
 rather in a circle than forward, and oftentimes, through the 
 doubling of reports, have returned back again where they 
 began. Fame being a bastard, or Jilia populi, it is very hard 
 to find her father, and ofttimes she hath rather all than any 
 for her first authors. 
 
 4. Politicians sometimes raise fames on purpose. As that 
 such things are done already, which they mean to do after- 
 wards. By the light of those false fires they see into men's 
 hearts, and these false rumours are true scouts to discover 
 men's dispositions. Besides, the deed, though strange in 
 itself, is done afterwards with the less noise, men having 
 vented their wonder beforehand, and the strangeness of the 
 action is abated, because formerly made stale in report. But 
 if the rumour startles men extremely, and draws with it 
 dangerous consequences, then they can presently confute it, 
 let their intentions fall, and prosecute it no further. 
 
 5. The papal side of all fame merchants drive the most 
 gainful trade, as that worthy knight hath given us an exact 
 survey thereof, f But long before them, strange was that plot 
 of Stratocles, who gave it out that he had gotten a victory, 
 and the constant report thereof continued three days, and 
 then was confuted ; and Stratocles being charged with abusing 
 his people with a lie, Whi/, said he, are ye angry with me for 
 making you pass three days in mirth and jollity more than 
 otherwise you should ? X 
 
 6. Incredible is the swiftness of fame in carrying reports. 
 First she creeps through a village ; then she goes through a 
 town ; then she runs through a city ; then she flies through a 
 country ; still the farther the faster. Yea, Christ, who made 
 the dumb speak, made not tell-tale fame silent, though char- 
 ging those he cured to hold their peace ; but so much the more 
 went there a fame abroad of him.\ Yea, some things have 
 
 * Stow's Survey of London, p. 528. 
 
 t Sir Edward Sandys' View of the West Religions, p. 100. 
 X Plutarch's TloXiriKa wapayyiXj^ara. § Luke v. 15. 
 
176 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 been reported soon as ever they were done at impossible 
 distance. The overthrow of Perseus was brought out of 
 Macedon to Rome in four days.f And in Domitian's time 
 a report was brought two thousand five hundred miles in 
 one day. In which accidents, 
 
 1. Fame takes post on some other advantage. Thus 
 the overthrow of the Sabines was known at Rome priiis 
 pene quum nunciari possit, by the means of the arms of the 
 Sabines drowned in the river of Tiber, and carried down 
 by the tide to Rome. X And thus, anno 1568, the over- 
 throw which the Spaniards gave the Dutch at the river of 
 Ems, was known at Grunning before any horseman could 
 reach thither, by the multitude of the Dutch caps which 
 the river brought down into the city. But these convey- 
 ances are but slugs to make such miraculous speed : where- 
 fore sometimes reports are carried,§ 
 
 2. By the ministration of spirits. The devils are well at 
 leisure to play such pranks, and may do it in a frolic. 
 And yet they would scarce be the carriers except they were 
 well paid for the porterage, getting some profit thereby 
 (doing of mischief is all the profit they are capable of), and 
 do harm to some by the suddenness of those reports. Or 
 else, 
 
 3. The fame is antedated and raised before the fact; 
 being related at g\iess before it was acted. Thus some 
 have been causelessly commended for early rising in the 
 morning, who indeed came to their journey 'send overnight. 
 If such foremade reports prove true, they are admired and 
 registered ; if false, neglected and forgotten : as those 
 only which escaped shipwreck hung up votivas tabulas, 
 tablets with their names in those haven-towns where they 
 came ashore. But as for those who are drowned, their me- 
 morials are drowned with them. 
 
 7. General reports are seldom false. Vox populi vox Dei. 
 A body of that greatness hath an eye of like clearness, and 
 it is impossible that a wanderer with a counterfeit pass should 
 pass undiscovered. 
 
 8. A fond fame is best confuted hy neglecting it. By fond 
 
 ■hLivy, lib. 45. juxta princip. $ Livy, lib. 1. 
 
 § Faraian. Strada, de Bello Belgic. lib. 5. p. 456. 
 
OF FAME. 177 
 understand such a report as is rather ridiculous than danger- 
 ous if beheved. It is not worth the making a schism be- 
 twixt newsmongers to set up an antifame against it. Yea, 
 seriously and studiously to endeavour to confute it will grace 
 the rumour too much, and give suspicion that, indeed, there 
 is some reality in it. What madness were it to plant a piece 
 of ordnance to beat down an aspen leaf, which having always 
 the palsy will at last fall down of itself. And fame hath 
 much of the scold in her ; the best way to silence her is to 
 be silent, and then at last she will be out of breath with 
 blowing her own trumpet. 
 
 9. Fa}7ie sometimes reports things less than they are. 
 Pardon her for offending herein, she is guilty so seldom. 
 For one kingdom of Scotland, which, they say, geographers 
 describe a hundred miles too short, most northern countries 
 are made too large. Fame generally overdoes, underdoes 
 but in some particulars. The Italian proverb hath it. There 
 is less honesti/, wisdom, and money in men, than is counted on : 
 yet sometimes a close churl, who locks his coffers so fast 
 fame could never peep into them, dieth richer than he was 
 reported when alive. None could come near to feel his es- 
 tate ; it might therefore cut fatter in his purse than was ex- 
 pected. But fame falls most short in those transcendents 
 which are above her predicaments ; as in Solomon's wisdom : 
 And behold one half was not told me ; thy wisdom and pros- 
 perity exceedeth the fame that I heard* But chiefly in fore- 
 reporting the happiness in heaven, which eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man 
 to conceive. 
 
 LXIV. — Of the Antiquity of Churches, and 
 
 NECESSITY OF THEM. 
 
 TTT^E will consider their antiquity amongst the Jews, 
 ▼ ^ heathen, auil Christians. Now temples amongst the 
 Jews were more or less ancient as the acceptation of the 
 word is straiter or larger. 
 
 1 . Take temple for a covered standing structure, and the 
 
 * 1 Kings X. 7. 
 N 
 
178 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Jews had none till the time of Solomon, which was from the 
 beginning of the world about two thousand nine hundred and 
 tliirty-two years :* till tlien tliey had neither leave nor hberty 
 to build a temple. For the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and 
 Jacob, lived in pilgrimage ; Uieir posterity in Effvpt in per- 
 secution ; tlieir children in the \\-ilderness in constant travel- 
 ling ; their successors in Canaan in continual warfare, till the 
 days of Solomon . 
 
 2. Take templum fo'' tectum amplura,t a large place 
 covered to serve God therein, and the tabernacle was a 
 moveable temple, built by Moses in the wilderness about the 
 year of the world two tliousand four hundred and tifty-five. 
 Yea, we tind God's Spirit styling this tabernacle a temple : 
 1 Sam. i. 9. Eli the priest sat upon a seat bi/ the pillar of the 
 temple; 1 Sara. iii. 3. Before the lamp of the Lord icent out 
 in the temple. Such a portable church Constantine had car- 
 ried about with him when he went to war.+ 
 
 3. God's children had places with altars to serve God iw, 
 before thet/ had <z//v temples. Such altars seem as ancient as 
 sacrifices, both which ai-e twins : and in relatives find one 
 and find both. Indeed, the first altar we read of in Scripture 
 is that which Noah built afier the flood : but hear what a 
 learned man saith thereof, Xon tamen existimandum toto ilia 
 tempore, guo ante diluvium pii homines Deo sacrificarunt 
 alturiuni mum fuisse incognituni. Potius id credendum, 
 Noachum scquutum fuisse exemplum eorum, qui eum praces- 
 serant, imo morem inolitum.^ 
 
 4. The Jews, besides the temple, had mani/ other s)/nagogues, 
 serving instead of cliapels of ease to the mother church at 
 Jerusalem. In the New Testament, the temple yet standing, 
 it is plain that Christ often graced such synagogues witli 
 his presence and preaching ; and it is probable they w ere in 
 use ever since Joshua's timcjl when the land was first inha- 
 bited widi Israelites, and that ilie Levites, dispersed all over 
 die land, did teach the people therein : otlierwise Palestine 
 was a great parish, and soir.e therein had a hundred miles to 
 church ; besides, people's souls were poorly fed, having but 
 
 * Vid. Chron. Helvici. + Isidorius, lib. 15. cap. 14. 
 
 t Socrates, lib. 1. cap. 14. ; et Sozoraen, lib. 1. cip. 8. 
 
 ^ Rivet, in Genes, p. 275. [j Hosp. de Orig. Temp. cap. 4. 
 
ANTIQUITY OF CHURCHES. 179 
 three meals in a year, being but thrice to appear at Jeru- 
 salem. 
 
 5. Many heathen temples were more ancient than that of 
 Solomon's. Amongst which pagan temples there is much 
 jostling for precedency, though some think that of Apis in 
 Egypt shews the best evidence for her seniority, wherein was 
 worshipped an ox, of whose herd, not to say breed, was the 
 calf which the Israelites worshipped in the wilderness, being 
 made in imitation thereof. But the heathen had this gross 
 conceit that their gods were affixed to their statues, as their 
 statues were confined in their temples : so, that in effect they 
 did not so much build temples for their gods, as thereby lay 
 nets to catch them in, inviting them thither as into a palace, 
 and then keeping them there as in a prison. 
 
 6. Most civilized heathen nations had temples for their gods. 
 I say, most, for the Persians are said to have none at all. 
 Perchance it was because they chiefly worshipped the sun, 
 and then, according to the general opinion of fixing deities to 
 their temples, it was in vain to erect and structure therein, to 
 restrain and keep his ubiquitary beams. And yet that the 
 Persians were wholly templeless will hardly be believed, 
 seeing the Assyrians on this side ; Sennacherib was killed 
 worshipping in the house of Nisroch his god ;* and the Indians 
 on the other side of them had their temples erected, as some 
 will have it, by Bacchus their Dionysius : yea, we find a 
 temple in Persia dedicated to Nanea in the time of Antiochus,t 
 and though it may be pretended that the influence of the 
 Grecian empire on the Persians had then spiced them with 
 a smack of Grecism, yet Nanea will scarce be proved any 
 Grecian deity : not to say anything of the temple of Bell. 
 Civilized : for, as for the Scythian wandering nomades, tem- 
 ples sorted not with their condition, as wanting both civility 
 and settledness : and who can expect churches from them who 
 had no houses for themselves ? Lastly, I say, nation ; for the 
 Stoics only, a conceited sect, forbade any building of temples, 
 either out of derision of the common conceit that deities were 
 kept in durance in their temples, or else out of humour, be- 
 cause they counted the general practice of other men a just 
 
 * 2 Kings xix. 37. 
 
 t 2 Maccabees i. 13.; vide etiam 1 Maccab. vi. 2. 
 
180 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 ground for their contrary opinion. And now we come to the 
 antiquity of Christian churches, and crave leave of the reader, 
 tliat we may for a while dissolve our continued discourse into 
 a dialogue. 
 
 A. I am much perplexed to find the beginning of Chris- 
 tian churches in the Scripture. There I find the saints 
 meeting in the house o f Maty the mother of Mark : in the 
 school o f Tj/rannus ; in an upper chamber ; but can see no 
 foundation of a chmch, I mean of a place and structure 
 separated and set apart solely for divine service. 
 
 B. That tlie saints had afterwards churches in your 
 sense is plain: 1 Cor. xi. 22. Have ye not houses to eat 
 oiul drink in, or despise ye the church of God, and shame 
 ihcm that have 7iot ? Here the opposition is a good exposi- 
 tion of the apostle's meaning, and the antithesis betwixt 
 houses and church speaks them both to be local ; so that 
 St. Paul thought their material church despised, that is, 
 abused and unreverenced, by their lay-meeting of love-feasts 
 therein. 
 
 A. By your favour, sir, the apostle by church meaneth 
 there die assembly or society of God's ser\'ants, as appears 
 by what foUowetli ; or despise ye the church o f God, and 
 shame them that have not ? Them, and not that, not speak- 
 in? of the place but persons : the latter words of the apostle 
 comment on the former, shewing how to shame those who 
 had not (that is, to neglect and upbraid the poor), is to de- 
 spise the church o f God. 
 
 B. Pardon me, sir, for the apostle therein accuseth the 
 Corinthians of a second fault. Imprimis, he chargeth them 
 for despising God's material church; item, for shaming 
 their poor brethren in their love-feasts. The particle and 
 sheweth the addition of a new charge, but no expounding 
 or amplifying of the former. But, sir, suspending our 
 judgments herein, let us descend to the primitive times be- 
 fore Constantine, we shall there find churches without any 
 contradiction. 
 
 A. Xot so neither : herein also the trumpet of antiquity 
 giveih a vsry uncertain sound : indeed we have but little 
 left of the story of those times, wherein Christian books 
 were as much persecuted as men, and but a few confessor 
 
ANTIQUITY OF CHURCHES. 181 
 records escaping martyrdom are come to our hands. Yea, 
 God may seem to have permitted the suppression of primi- 
 tive history, lest men should be too studious in reading, and 
 observant in practising the customs of that age, even to the 
 neglecting and undervaluing of his written word. 
 
 B. Yet how slenderly soever those primitive times are 
 storied, tliere is enough in them to prove the antiquity of 
 churches. I will not instance on the decrees of Evaristus, 
 Hyginus, and other popes in the first three hundred years 
 about the consecrating of churches, because their authority 
 is suspected as antedated ; and none are bound to believe 
 that the Gibeonites came from so far a country as their 
 mouldy bread and clouted shoes did pretend. Churches 
 are plainly to be found in Tertullian, two hundred years 
 after Christ ; and Eusebius witnesseth, that before the time 
 of Dioclesian the Christians had churches, which the tyrant . 
 caused to be destroyed.* 
 
 A. But Origen, Minutius Felix, Arnobius, and Lactan- 
 tius, being pressed by the heathen that Christians had no 
 churches, answered by way of confession ; yielding that 
 they had none, f This is the difficulty that perplexeth 
 me. It was a bloody speech of Abner, Let the young 
 men rise up and play bef ore us ; but worse is their cruelty 
 who make sport at the falling out of the old men, when 
 the reverend brows of antiquity knock one against another, 
 and fathers thus extremely differ in matters of fact. 
 
 B. Why, sir, a charitable distinction may reconcile 
 them ; if by churxhes stately magnificent fabrics be meant, 
 in that acceptation the Christians had no churches : but 
 small oratories and prayer-places they then had, though 
 little, low and dark, being so fearful of persecution, they 
 were jealous the sunbeams should behold them : and indeed 
 
 * Hist. Eccles. lib. 8. cap. 1, 2. 
 
 t Origen, 1. 4. contra Celsum : "Objicit nobis Celsus quodnon 
 habeamus imagines aut aras aut templa." Idem, lib. 8. contra 
 Celsum : " Celsus et aras et simulacra et delubra ait nos defugere 
 quo minus fundentur." Arnobius, lib. 4. contra Gen. : "Accusatis 
 nos quod nec templa habeamus, nee imagines nfC aras." Minut. 
 Fehx, p. 73. : •'Putatis autem nos occultare quod colamus si de- 
 lubra et aras non liabemus." Lactanlius : '-Quid sibi templa, quid 
 arae volunt, quid denique ipsa simulacra," 6cc. 
 
182 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 stately churches had but given a fairer aim to their enemies' 
 malice to hit them. Such a homely place learned Sir 
 Henry Spelman presents us with, which was first founded 
 at Glastonbury, thatched and wattled : * and let not our 
 churches, now grown men, look with a scornful eye on their 
 wn picture, when babes in their swaddling clothes. And 
 no wonder if God's house 
 
 Eruhuit domino cultior esse suo. 
 
 The church did blush more glory for to have 
 
 Than had her Lord. He begg'd : should she be brave ? 
 
 Christ himself being then cold, and hungry, and naked 
 in his afflicted members. Such a mean oratory TertuUian 
 calls Triclinium Christ ianorimi,-\ the parlour or three-bed- 
 room of the Christians. 
 
 A. But it seems not to consist with Christian ingenuity 
 for the forenamed fathers absolutely to deny their having of 
 churches, because they had only poor ones. 
 
 B. Take then another answer, namely, in denying they 
 had no temples; they meant it ii; the same notion wherein 
 they were interrogated ; to wit, they had no temples like the 
 pagans for heathen gods, no claustra numinum wherein 
 the deity they served was imprisoned. Or may we not 
 say, that in that age the Christians had no churches gene- 
 rally, though they might have them in some places ; the 
 elevation of their happiness being varied according to se- 
 veral climates : and Christendom then being of so large an 
 extent, it might be stormy with persecution in one country, 
 and fair weather in another. We come now to the ne- 
 cessity. 
 
 7. There is no absolute necessity that Christians should 
 have churches. No necessity at all in respect of God, no 
 absolute necessity in respect of men, when persecution hinders 
 the erecting of them : in such a case any place is made a 
 church for the time being, as any private house where the 
 king and his retinue meet, is presently made the court. 
 
 8. Christians have no direct precept to build churches under 
 the gospel. I say direct ; for the law of God, which com- 
 mands a public sanctification of a sabbath, must needs, by 
 
 * De Conciliis Brittan. p. 11. t Adversus Gentes, cap. iii. 9. 
 
ANTIQUITY OF CHURCHES. 183 
 way of necessary consequence, imply a set, known, and public 
 place.* Besides, God's command to Moses and Solomon 
 to build a temple, in a manner obligeth us to build churches. 
 In which command observe the body and the soul thereof. 
 The body thereof was ceremonial and mortal, yea, died, and 
 is buried in our Saviour's grave : the soul thereof is moral 
 and eternal, as founded in nature, and is always to endure. 
 Thus St. Paul finds a constant bank for ministers' mainte- 
 nance locked up in a ceremonial law : Thou shalt not muzzle 
 the mouth of the ox that treudeth out the corn. The apostle, 
 on the morality couched therein, founded the charter of en- 
 dowment for ministers in the gospel. Besides, God hath left 
 a warrant dormant with his church, Let all things be done 
 decentli/ and in order. And this ties Christians to the build- 
 ing of churches for their public assemblies, whereby not only 
 decency but piety is so much advanced, especially in these 
 three respects : \ 
 
 1. Hereby the same meat serves to feed many guests, 
 one pastor instructing many people in the same place. 
 
 2. Devotion is increased with company. Their praises 
 are the louder ; and music is sweetest in a full consort : 
 their prayers are the stronger, besetting God, as it were, in 
 a round, and not suffering him to depart till he hath blessed 
 them. H(EC vis grata deo. f 
 
 3. The very place itself being dedicated to God's service, 
 is a moniter to them Hoc agere, and stirs up pious 
 thoughts in them. Say not, it is but lame devotion that 
 cannot mount without the help of such a wooden stock ; 
 rather it is lame, indeed, which is not raised, though 
 having ihe advantage thereof. 
 
 9. Those that may, must frequent the public churches. 
 Such as now-a-days are ambitious of conventicles are deeply 
 guilty : for as it had been desperate madness, in time of per- 
 secution, publicly to resort to divine service, so it is no less 
 unthankfulness to God now, to serve him in woods and holes, 
 not taking notice of the liberty of the gospel, which he gra- 
 
 * " Ut communes fidelibus preces Deus verbo suo edicit, sic et 
 templa publica ipsis peragendis destinata esse oporter." Calvin, 
 lastit. lib. 3. cap. 20, num. 30. 
 
 t Tertull. Apol. 
 
184 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 ciously hath vouchsafed ; yea, such people, in effect, deny 
 the king to be defender of the faith, but make him a perse- 
 cutor rather, in that they dare not avouch the truth in the 
 face of his authority. If it be good they do, thanks be to God, 
 it may be done anywhere ; if bad, it must be done nowhere. 
 Besides, by their voluntary private meetings, they give occa- 
 sions to many to suspect their actions there : and grant them 
 unjustly traduced for their behaviour therein, yet can they 
 not justly be excused, because they invite slanderous tongues 
 to censure them, in not providing for honest things in the 
 sight of men, and clearing God's service as well from the sus- 
 picion, as from the guilt of any dishonesty. 
 
 We should now come to speak of the holiness, reverence, 
 decency and magnificency of churches : but herein I had 
 rather hear the judgments of other men. Let it serve instead 
 of a conclusion to observe, that Solomon's temple was the 
 stateliest structure that ever was or shall be in the world ; 
 built by the wealthiest, contrived by the wisest king, in seven 
 years, now counted the life of a man, by an army of workmen, 
 no fewer than one hundred and forty-three thousand three 
 hundred;* of the soundest timber, most precious stones, most 
 proper metal, as the nature of the things required ; either the 
 strongest brass, or the richest gold. In a word, earth gave 
 it most costly matter, and heaven itself most curious work- 
 manship, God directing them. And though Solomon had no 
 mines of gold and silver in his own land, yet had he the 
 spoils and gifts of the neighbouring nations, and once in three 
 years the golden land of Ophircame swimming to Jerusalem. 
 God being the landlord of the earth, Solomon was then his 
 receiver, to whom the world paid in her rent, to build his 
 temple. And was not he a most wealthy king, in whose 
 days silver was nothing accounted of; seeing in our days the 
 commander of both Indies hath so much brass coin current in 
 his court ? As for Josephus, his conceit that the second edi- 
 tion of the temple by Zorobabel, as it was new forrelled and 
 filleted with gold by Herod, was a statelier volume than that 
 first of Solomon, it is too weak a surmise to have a confuta- 
 tion fastened to it. 
 
 And yet we will not deny but the world hath seen greater 
 
 * 1 Kings V. 15, 16. 
 
ANTIQUITY OF CHURCHES. 185 
 
 buildings for the piles and fabrics, as may appear by this 
 parallel. 
 
 1. God's temple, built at Jerusalem by Solomon, sixty 
 cubits long, twenty broad, thirty high.* 
 
 2. Diana's temple, built at Ephesus by the kings of Asia, 
 four hundred and twenty-five feet long, two hundred and 
 twenty broad, sixty high.f 
 
 3. Sepulchre church, built on Mount Calvary by Con- 
 stantine. We find no set dimension, but hyperbolical ex- 
 pressions of it. I 
 
 4. St. Sophia's church, built at Constantinople by Justi- 
 nian, two hundred and sixty-feet long, seventy-five broad, 
 one hundred and eighty high.§ 
 
 5. St. Paul's church, built at London by king Ethelbert, 
 six hundred and ninety feet long, one hundred and thirty 
 broad, one hundred and two high.|| 
 
 6. Turkish mosque, built at Fez, one hundred and fifty 
 Florentine cubits long, eighty broad. If 
 
 But when the reader hath with his eyes surveyed these 
 temples, and findeth them to exceed Solomon's, yet let him 
 remember, first, that there is nothing more uncertain than the 
 measures used in several countries ; one country's span may 
 be another country's cubit, and the toe of one country as big 
 as the foot of another : secondly, that in Solomon's temple 
 great cubits were meant prim(£ menmra^ 2 Chron. iii. 3 ; 
 thirdly, that we see most of these structures only through the 
 magnifying glass of fame, or else by the eyes of travellers, 
 who usually count the best they ever saw to be the best that 
 was ever seen ; yea, in charity will lend a church some 
 hundreds of feet to help out the dimension thereof, as 
 
 * 2 Chron. iii. 3. t Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 36. cap. 14. 
 
 X Eusebius, lib. 3. de Vit. Constantini, c. 24: 
 
 [iflVOQ ~] £7ri 
 
 I irXeiffra 
 
 § Evagrius, lib. 4. cap. 30. 
 II Namely, in the body of the church besides the steeple. — 
 Cambd. Britt. in Middlesex. 
 
 If The height we find not, but it is a mile and half in compass. — 
 Leo Africanus, lib. 3. p. 126. 
 
186 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Bellonius, a modern eye-witness, counteth three hundred and 
 sixty-five doors in the present church of Sophia,* which hath 
 but four, as an exact traveller hath observed.f Lastly, whilst 
 human historians will overlash for the honour of their own 
 nations, we know it must needs be true what Truth hath 
 written of Solomon's temple. 
 
 LXV. — Of Ministers' Maintexance. 
 
 MAINTENANCE of ministers ought to be plentiful, 
 certain, and in some sort proportionable to their de- 
 serts. It should be plentiful, because 
 
 1 . Their education icas very chargeable to jit them for their 
 profession, both at school and in the university: their books 
 very dear, and those which they brought in folio, shrink 
 quickly into quartos, in respect of the price tlieir executors 
 can get for them. Say not that scholars draw needless ex- 
 penses on themselves by their own lavishness, and that they 
 should rather lead a fashion of thrift, than follow one of riot; 
 for let any equal man tax the bill of their necessary charges, 
 and it amounts to a great sum, yea, though they be never so 
 good husbands. Besides, the prices of all commodities daily 
 rise higher ; all persons and professions are raised in their 
 manner of living : scholars therefore, even against their wills, 
 must otherwhiles be involved in the general expensiveness of 
 the times ; it being impossible that one spoke should stand 
 still, when all the wheel turns about. 
 
 Ob. But many needlessly charge themselves in living too 
 long in the university, sucking so long of their mother, they 
 are never a whit the wiser for it ; whilst others, not staying 
 there so long, nor going through the porch of human arts, 
 but entering into divinity at the postern, have made good 
 preachers, providing their people wholesome meat, though 
 not so finely dressed. 
 
 Answ. Much good may it do their very hearts that feed 
 on it ! But how necessary a competent knowledge of those 
 sciences is for a perfect divine, is known to eveiy wise man. 
 Let not men's suffering be counted their fault, not those 
 
 * Lib. 1. Observ. cap. 76. 
 
 t Sir G. Sandys' Travels, p. 32. 
 
MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE. 187 
 
 accused to stand idle in the 7narket whom no man hath hired. 
 Many would leave the university sooner, if called into the 
 country on tolerable conditions. 
 
 2. Because ministers are to subsist in a freCj liberal and 
 comfortable way. Balaam the false prophet rode with his 
 two men ;* God's Levite had one man.f Oh, let not the 
 ministers of the gospel be slaves to others, and servants to 
 themselves ! They are not to pry into gain through every small 
 chink. It becomes them rather to be acquainted with the 
 natures of things, than with the prizes, and to know them 
 rather as they are in the world, than as they are in the market. 
 Otherwise, if his means be small, and living poor, necessity 
 will bolt him out of his own study, and send him to the barn, 
 when he should be at his book, or make him study his Easter 
 book more than all other writers. Hereupon, some wanting 
 what they should have at home, have done what they should 
 not abroad. 
 
 3. Because hospitality is expected at their hands. The poor 
 come to their houses as if they had interest in them, and the 
 ministers can neither receive them nor refuse them. Not to re- 
 lieve them, were not Christianity ; and to relieve them, were 
 worse than infidelity, because therein they wrong their pro- 
 viding for their own family. Thus sometimes are they forced 
 to be Nabals against their will ; yet it grieveth them to send 
 away the people empty. But what shall they do, seeing they 
 cannot multiply their loaves and their fishes ? Besides clergy- 
 men are deeply rated to all payments. Oh, that their profession 
 were but as highly prized as their estate is valued ! 
 
 4. Because they are to provide for their posterity, that after 
 the death of their parents they may live, though not in a high 
 yet in an honest fashion, neither leaving them to the wide 
 world, nor to a narrow cottage. 
 
 5. Because the Levites in the Old Testament had plentiful 
 provision. Oh, it is good to be God's pensioner, for he giveth 
 his large allowance ! They had cities and suburbs (houses 
 and glebe-land) tithes, freewill-offerings, and their parts in 
 first-fruits and sacrifices. Do the ministers of the gospel de- 
 serve worse wages for bringing better tidings ? Besides, the 
 
 * Numb. xxii. 22. 
 
 t Judges xix. 11. 
 
188 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Levites' places were hereditary, and the son sure of his father's 
 
 house and land, without a faculty ad succcdendum patri. 
 
 6. Because the papists in time of popery gave their priests 
 plentiful means. Whose benefactors, so bountiful to them, 
 may serve to condemn the covetousuess of our age towards 
 God's ministers, in such who have more knowledge, and 
 should have more religion. 
 
 Ob. But tlie great means of the clerg}- in time of poper\- 
 was rather wrested than given. The priests melted men's 
 hearts into charity with tlie scarefire of purgatory : and for 
 justice now to give l")ack what holy fraud had gotten away, 
 is not sacrilege but restitution. And when those grand 
 and vast donations were given to the church, there was, as 
 some say, a voice of angels heard from heaven, saying, 
 Hodie venenum in ecclesiam Christi cecidit. 
 
 Ansic. If poison tlien fell into the church, smce hath 
 there a strong antidote been given to expel it, especially in 
 impropriations. Distinguish we betwixt such donations 
 given to uses in themselves merely unla^^iul and {supersti- 
 tious, as praying for the dead, and the like; and those 
 which in genere were given to God's service, though in 
 specie some superstitious end were annexed thereto. And 
 grant the former of these to be void in tlieir xery granting, 
 yet tlie latter ought to be rectified and reduced to the tnie 
 use, and in no case to be alienated from God. Plato saith, 
 that in his time it was a proverb amongst children, T<Sv 
 opcrwc co^'ivrojv ovk scrtr aipaipeaig. Things that are ti'uly 
 given, must not be taken aicai/ again. Sure as our Saviour 
 set a child in the midst of his diciples to teach them hu- 
 mility-, so Dow-a-days a child need be set in the midst of 
 some men to teach them justice. Excellently Luther : Nisi 
 super esset spolium ^gypti, quod rapuiwus Papa^ omnibus 
 miniitris verbi fame pereundum esset ; quod si sustentatidi 
 essent de contributione populi, misere projecto ac duriter 
 viverent. Alimur ergo de spoliis ^gi/pti collectis sub Pa- 
 patUf et hoc ipsum tamen quod reliquum est diripitur d 
 magistratu : spoliantur parochi<e et schola, non aliter ac 
 si fame necare nos velint.* 
 
 Ob. But in the pure primitive times the means were 
 
 * la his Comment -OQ Genesis xlvii. p. 631. 
 
MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE. 189 
 least, and ministers the best : and now-a-days, does not 
 wealth make them lazy, and poverty keep them painful ? 
 Like hawks they fly best when sharp. The best way to 
 keep the stream of the clergy sweet and clear, is to fence 
 out the tide of wealth from coming unto them. 
 
 Ansiv. Is this our thankfulness to the God of heaven, 
 for turning persecution into peace, in pinching his poor 
 ministers ? When the commonwealth now makes a feast, 
 shall neither Zadok the priest, nor Nathan the prophet, be 
 invited to it ; that so the footsteps of primitive persecution 
 may still remain in these peaceable times amongst the 
 papists, in their needless burning of candles, and amongst 
 the protestants, in the poor means of their ministers ? And 
 what, if some turn the spurs unto virtue into the stirrups 
 of pride, grow idle and insolent; let them soundly suffer 
 for it themselves on God's blessing ; but let not the bees 
 be starved that the drones may be punished . 
 
 7. Ministers^ maintenance ought to be certain ; lest some 
 of them meet with Labans for their patrons and parishioners ; 
 changing their wages ten times, and at last, if the fear of God 
 doth not fright them, send them aw^ay empty. 
 
 8. It is unequal that thejx should be an equality betwixt 
 all ministers' maintenance. Except, that first there were 
 made an equality betwixt all their parts, pains, and piety. 
 Parity in means will quickly bring a level and flat in learning ; 
 and few will strive to be such spiritual musicians, to whom 
 David directeth many psalms, To him that ei'fe//(?M, but will 
 even content themselves with a canonical sufficiency, and 
 desiring no more than what the law requires. More learning 
 would be of more pains and the same profit, seeing the me- 
 diocriier goeth abreast with optinie. 
 
 Ob. But neither the best, nor the most painful and 
 learned, get the best preferment. Sometimes men of the 
 least, get livings of the best worth : yea, such as are not 
 worthy to be the curates to their curates, and c-rcssa ingenia 
 go away with opima sacerdotia. 
 
 Answ. Thus it ever was and will be. But is this dust 
 only to be found in churches, and not in civil courts ? Is 
 merit everywhere else made the exact square of preferment ? 
 or did ever any urge that all offices should be made cham- 
 pion for their profits, none higher than other ? Such cor- 
 
190 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 ruptions will ever be in the church, except there were a law 
 (ridiculous to be made, and impossible to be kept), that 
 men should be no men, but that all patrons or people, in 
 their election or presentations of ministers, should wholly 
 divest themselves of by-respects of kindred, friendship, 
 profit, affection, and merely choose for desert : and then 
 should we have all things so well ordered, such pastors and 
 such people, the church, in a manner, would be triumphant 
 whilst mihtant. Till then, though the best livings light 
 not always on the ablest men, yet as long as there be such 
 preferments in the church, there are still encouragements 
 for men to endeavour to excel, all hoping, and some hap- 
 pening on advancement. 
 
 Ob. But ministers ought to serve God merely for love 
 of himself ; and pity but his eyes were out that squints at 
 his own ends in doing God's work. 
 
 Ansxo. Then should God's best saints be blind; for 
 ISIoses himself had an eye to the recompense of reicard. 
 Yea, ministers may look not only on their eternal, but on 
 their temporal reward, as motives to quicken their endea- 
 vours. And though it be true that grave and pious men 
 do study for learning sake, and embrace virtue for itself, 
 yet it is as true that youth, which is the season when 
 learning is gotten, is not without ambition, nor will ever 
 take pains to excel in anything, when there is not some 
 hope of excelUng others in reward and dignity. And what 
 reason is it that whilst law and physic bring great portions 
 to such as marry them, divinity, their elder sister, should 
 only be put off with her own beauty ; in after ages men 
 will rather bind their sons to one gainful, than to seven 
 liberal sciences : only the lowest of the people would be 
 made nnnisters, which cannot otherwise subsist; and it 
 will be bad when God's church is made a sanctuary only 
 for men of desperate estates to take refuge in it. 
 However, let every minister take up this resolution. To 
 preach the word, to be instant in season, out oj' season, reprove, 
 rebuke, exhort with all long-sufering and doctrine. If thou 
 hast competent means comfortably to subsist on, be the more 
 thankful to God, the fountain, to man, the channel ; painful 
 m thy place, pitiful to the poor, cheerful in spending some, 
 careful in keeping the rest. If not, yet tire not for want of a 
 
MINISTERS' MAINTENANCE. 191 
 spur, do something for love, and not all for money ; for love of 
 God, of goodness, of the godly, of a good conscience. Know 
 it is better to want means than to detain them ; the one only 
 suffers, the other deeply sins : and it is as dangerous a pei- 
 secution to religion to draw the fuel from it, as to cast water 
 on it. Comfort thyself that another world will pay this 
 world's debts, and great is thy reward with God in heaven. 
 A reward, in respect of his promise ; a gift, in respect of thy 
 worthlessness : and yet the less thou lookest at it, the surer 
 thou shalt find it, if labouring with thyself to serve God for 
 himself, in respect of whom, even heaven itself is but a 
 sinister end. 
 
 LXVI. — The Favourite. 
 
 A FAVOURITE is a court dial, whereon all look whilst 
 the king shines on him, and none when it is night with 
 him. A minion differs from a favourite : for he acts things 
 by his own will and appetite, as a favourite by the judgment 
 and pleasure of his prince. These again are twofold : either 
 such as rely wholly on their king's favour, or such as the 
 king partly relies on their wisdom, loving them rather for use 
 than affection. The former are like pretty wands in a prince's 
 hand, for him to play with at pleasure ; the latter, like staves, 
 whereon he leans and supports himself in state affairs. 
 
 1. God is the original patron of all pi-eferment, all digni- 
 ties being in his disposal. Promotion, saith David, conies 
 neither from the east, nor from the ivest, nor yet from the 
 south.^ The word here translated south, in the Hebrew, 
 signifies the desert ; and such a coarse list bounded Palestine 
 both on the south and north, so that in effect, preferment 
 bloweth from no point of the compass. f True, every man 
 h,fortwi(E su(efab€r,t\ie smith to beat out his own fortunes; 
 but God first doth give him coals, iron, and anvil, before he 
 can set up his trade. 
 
 2. The first inlet into a prince's knowledge is half way into 
 his favour. Indeed, the heat of the sun pierceth into the 
 innermost bowels of the earth, but only the surface thereof is 
 gilded with his beams : so, though the influence of the prince's 
 
 * Ps. Ixxv. 7. 
 
 t Tremellius on the Verse. 
 
192 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 protection reacheth the utmost and obscurest man in his 
 dominions, yet only some few who lie on the top of the heap 
 of his subjects, can be graced v,it\x his favour. He, therefore, 
 tiiat is known to his prince, starts in the half way of his race 
 to honour. A notable fellow, and a soldier to Alexander, 
 finding tliis first admission to be the greatest difficulty, put 
 feathers into his nose and ears, aad danced about the court 
 in an antique fashion, till the strangeness of the show brought 
 the king himself to be a spectator. Then this mimic throwing 
 ofi* his disguise : Sir, said he to the king, thus I Jirst arrive 
 at your majesty^ s notice in the fashion of a fool, hut can do 
 you service in the place of a wise man, if you please to employ 
 Jite. 
 
 3. It is the easier for them to leap i7ito preferment "who 
 have the rise of noble blood : such get their honour with more 
 ease, and keep it with less envy, which is busiest in ma- 
 ligning of upstarts. Nor is it any hinderance unto him, but 
 rather an advantage, if such a nobleman be of an ancient fa- 
 mily, decayed in state through the fault of his ancestors; for 
 such, princes count the object as well of dieir pity as favour, 
 and it an act as well of charity as bounty, to relieve and raise 
 them : but those are in some sort born favourites, and succeed 
 by descent to a prince's affection, rather as a debt than a gift, 
 whose parents have formerly suffered in the prince's or hig 
 predecessor's behalf. Tliis made Queen Elizabeth first re- 
 flect on the Lord Norris (for in the peaceable beginning of 
 her reign, the martial spirits of his son were not yet raised), 
 because iiis father died her mother's martyr, to attest her 
 innocencv in the reign of King Henry the Eighth. 
 
 4. Several doors open to preferment, but the king keeps the 
 key of them all. Some have been advanced for their faces, 
 then- beauty ; their heads, their wisdom ; their tongues, their 
 eloquence ; their hands, their valour ; their blood, their no- 
 bility ; their feet, their nirableness and comeliness in dancing ; 
 but all is ultimately resolved on the prince's pleasure. 
 
 5. Happy the favourite that is raised without the ruin of 
 another : as those who succeed in a dead place, who draw 
 less envy of competitors, in keeping othei-s out of the king's 
 favour, than those that cast one out of the passions thereof. 
 Also he that climbeth up by degrees stands more firmly in 
 favour, as making his footing good as he goes. 
 
THE FA VO URTTE. 193 
 
 6. Sometimes the pi'ince's favour is all the known worth 
 in the favourite. I say, known : for he is an infidel that 
 beheves not more than he sees, and that a rational prince will 
 love where he sees no loveliness. Surely Charles the Ninth 
 of France beheld some worth in Albertus Tudius, a huck- 
 ster's son, to whom, in five years, besides other honours, 
 he gave six hundred thousand crowns, though some affirm 
 all the good the king got by him, was to learn to swear by the 
 name of God.* Except we will say, that kings desire, in 
 some, to shew, as the absoluteness of their power, to raise 
 them from nothing, so of their will also, to advance them for 
 nothing. But princes have their grounds reared above the 
 flats of common men, and who will search the reasons of 
 their actions must stand on an equal basis with them. 
 
 7. Some kings, to make a jest, have advanced a man in 
 ea?mest. When amongst many articles exhibited to King 
 Henry the Sevenlh, by the Irish against the Earl of Kildare, 
 the last was, Firialli/, all Ireland cannot rule this earl. Then, 
 quoth the king, shall this earl rule all Ireland ;-\ and made 
 him deputy thereof. But such accidents are miraculous; 
 and he shall starve that will not eat till such manuals dropped 
 into his mouth. 
 
 8. But by what lawful means soever he hath gotten his 
 advancement, he standeth but in a slippery place ; and there- 
 fore needs constantly to wear ice-spurs, for he rather glides 
 than goes, and is in continual fear to be crushed from above 
 by his prince's anger, and undermined from beneath by his 
 fellow-subjects' envy. Against both which, see how he fenceth 
 himself. 
 
 9. He praiseth God for preferring him, and pray eth to him 
 to preserve him. His greatness must needs fall which is not 
 founded in goodness. First, he serveth his God in heaven, 
 and then his master on earth. The best way to please all, or 
 to displease them with least danger, is to please Him who is 
 all in all. 
 
 10. Next he studieth the alphabet of his prince's disposition : 
 whose inclination when found out is half fitted. Then he 
 applies himself to please his natural, though not vicious 
 humours, never preferring himself before his prince in any 
 
 * Camerariiis, Med. Hi«t. cap. 4. t Camb, Rem. p. 271. 
 o 
 
104 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 thing wherein he desires or concei veth himself to excel. Nero, 
 thoueh indeed but a fiddler, counted himself as well emperor 
 of music as of Rome : and his followers too grossly did sootlie 
 him up in the admiration of his skill in that art. But the 
 most temperate princes love to taste the sweetness of their own 
 praises, if not over luscious w idi flatter)^ where their own de- 
 serts lay the groundwork, and their favourites give the varnish 
 to their commendations. 
 
 11. Biiiiitnias o f speech hoth becotned some, oiui made them 
 more acceptable : yea, this hath been counted freeheartedness 
 in courtiers; conscience and Christian simplicity in clergy- 
 men ; valour m soldiers. / hnr thee the better^ sjiid Queen 
 Elizabeth to Archbishop Grindall, bccatute i/ou live unmarried. 
 And I, madam, replied Grindall, because tf on lire unmarried 
 love vou the worse. But those who make music with so harsh 
 an instniraent, need have their bow well rosined before, and 
 to observe time and place, lest tliat gall which would tickle at 
 other times. 
 
 12. He kaveth h is prince aluyays with an appetite^ and never 
 gluts hun with his company. Sometimes, taking occasion to 
 depart, whilst still his staying might be welcome. Such in- 
 termissions render him more gracious ; yet he absents himself 
 neither far, nor long, lest he might seem to neglect. Though 
 he doth not always spur up close to the king's side to be con- 
 stantly in his pi-esence, he never lacfs so far behind as to be out 
 of distance. Long absence hatli drawn the curtain betw ixt a 
 favourite and his sovereign, and tliereby hatli made room for 
 others to step in betwixt them. 
 
 13. He doth not boldJy engross and limit hui master s fa- 
 vour to himself. He is willing his prince should shine beside 
 him, but especially, Uirough him, on oUiers. Too covetous 
 are they who, not content to be sole heii^ to their prince's 
 favour, grudge that any j>eusions should be allotted to their 
 younger brethren. Why should it not as well be treason to 
 conrtne a prince's ati'ection, as to imprison his person ? 
 
 14. He nuikes provident yet moderate use of his master^s 
 favtmr. Especially if he be of a various nature, and lovedi 
 exchange, counting it not to stand w ith the ^tate of a king to 
 wear a favoiu-ite threadbare. To blame they, who diinking 
 it will be continual suimner with them, as in the country 
 under the equator, will not so much as frostnip tlieir souls 
 
THE FAVOURITE. 195 
 with a cold thought of want hereafter, and provide neither 
 to obhge others, nor to maintain themselves : as bad they, on 
 the other side, who, hke those who have a lease, without 
 impeachment of waste, speedily to expire, whip and strip, 
 and rap and rend, whatsoever can come to their fingers. 
 
 15. He makes his estate invisible by purchasing reversions^ 
 and in remote countries. He hath a moderate estate in open 
 view, that the world may settle their looks on it, for if they 
 see nothing they will suspect the more, and the rest far off 
 and hereafter. The eyes of envy can never bewitch that 
 which it doth not see. These reversions will be ripe for his 
 heir, by that time his heir shall be ripe for them, and the 
 money of distracted revenues will meet entirely in one purse. 
 
 16. Having attained to a competent height, he had rather 
 grow a buttress broader, than a story higher. He fortifieth 
 himself by raising outworks, and twisting himself by inter- 
 marriages of his kindred in noble families : his countenance 
 will give all his kinswomen beauty. Some favourites, whose 
 heels have been tripped up by their adversaries, have with 
 their hands held on their allies, till they could recover their 
 feet again. 
 
 17. He makes not great men dance invidious attendance 
 to speak with him. Oh, whilst their heels cool, how do their 
 hearts burn ? Wherefore, in the midst of the term of his 
 business he makes himself a vacation to speak with them. 
 Indeed some difficulty of access and conference begets a 
 reverence towards them in common people, who will suspect 
 the ware not good if cheap to come by, and therefore he 
 values himself in making them to wait: yet he loves not to 
 over-linger any in an afflicting hope, but speedily despatcheth 
 the fears or desires of his expecting clients. 
 
 18. He loveth a good name, but will not woo or court it 
 otherwise than as it is an attendant on honesty ayid virtue. 
 But chiefly he avoideth the sweet poison of popularity, 
 wherewith some have swollen till they have broken. Espe- 
 cially he declines the entertainment of many martialists, the 
 harsh counsel of soldiers being commonly untunable to the 
 courtway. The immoderate resorting of military men to a 
 favourite (chiefly if by any palliation he pretends to the crown) 
 is like the flocking of so many ravens and vultures, which 
 foretell his funeral. 
 
196 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 19. He preserves all inferior officers in the full rights and 
 privileges of their places. Some are so boisterouSj no seve- 
 rals will hold them, 'but lay all offices common to their 
 power, or else are so busy, that, making many circles in other 
 men's professions, they raise up ill spirits in them, and for 
 every finger they needlessly thrust into other men's matters, 
 shall find a hand against them, when occasion shall serve. 
 As bad are they who, leaping over meaner persons to whom 
 the business is proper, bring it per saltum to themselves, not 
 suffering matters to run along in a legal channel, but in a 
 by-ditch of their own cutting, so drawing the profit to them- 
 selves which they drain from others. 
 
 20. If accused hy his adversaries, he flies with speed to his 
 princess person. No better covert for a hunted favourite to 
 take to : where, if innocent, with his loyal breath he easily 
 dispels all vapours of ill suggestions ; if guilty, yet he is half 
 acquitted, because judged by the prince himself, whose com- 
 passion he moves by an ingenuous confession. But if this 
 sanctuary door be bolted against him, then his ruin is por- 
 tended, and not long after, 
 
 21. He is a fish on the dry shore when the tide of his mas- 
 ters love hath left him ; so that if he be not the more wise, 
 he will be made a prey to the next that finds him. Several 
 are the causes of favourites' falls, proceeding either from the 
 king's pleasure, their enemies' malice, or their own default: 
 different the degrees and manner of their ruin : some, when 
 grown too great, are shifted under honourable colours of em- 
 ployment into a foreign air, there to purge and lessen ; others 
 receive their condemnation at home. But hovi^ bad soever 
 his cast be, see how he betters it by good playing it. 
 
 22. He submits himself, without contesting, to the pleasure 
 * of his prince. For being a tenant at will to the favour of his 
 
 sovereign, it is vain to strive to keep violent possession when 
 his landlord will out him. Such struggling makes the hook 
 of his enemies' malice strike the deeper into him. And whilst 
 his adversaries spur him with injuries, on purpose to make 
 him spring out into rebellious practices, he reigns in his pas- 
 sions with the stronger patience. 
 
 23 . If he must down, he seeks to fall easily, and, ifposnible, 
 to light on his legs. If stripped out of his robes, he strives 
 to keep his clothes : losing his honour, yet to hold his lands. 
 
THE FAVOURITE. 197 
 if not them, his life ; and thanks his prince for giving him 
 whatsoever he takes not away from him. 
 
 To conclude, a favourite is a trade, whereof he that breaks 
 once, seldom sets up again. Rare are the examples of those 
 who have compounded, and thrived well afterwards. Mean 
 men are like underwood, which the law calls si/lva cadua, 
 gnu; succisa renasciter* being cut down it may spring again ; 
 but favourites are like oaks, which scarce thrive after (to make 
 timber) being lopped, but if once cut down, never grow more. 
 If we light on any who have flourished the second time, im- 
 pute it to their prince's pleasure to cross the common obser- 
 vation, and to shew that nothing is past cure with so great 
 a chirurgeon, who can even set a broken favourite. 
 
 Now to shew the inconstancy of greatness not supported 
 with virtue, we will first insist on a remarkable pattern in 
 Holy Scripture. Next will we produce a parallel of two 
 favourites in our English court, living in the same time and 
 height of honour with their sovereign ; the one through his 
 viciousness ending in misery, the other by his virtuous de- 
 meanour shining bright to his death : for I count it a wrong 
 to our country to import precedents^out of foreign histories, 
 when our home chronicles afford us as plentiful and proper 
 examples. 
 
 LXVII. — The Life of Haman. 
 
 HAMAN, the son of Amedatha, of the kindred of Agag, 
 and people of Amalek, was highly favoured by Aha- 
 suerus, emperor of Persia. I find not what precious pro- 
 perties he had : sure he was a pearl in the eye of Ahasuerus, 
 who commanded all his subjects to do lowly reverence unto 
 him : only Mordecai, the Jew, excepted himself from that 
 rule, denying him the payment of so humble an observance. 
 
 I fathom not the depth of Mordecai's refusal ; perchance 
 Haman interpreted this reverence farther than it was in- 
 tended, as a divine honour, and therefore Mordecai would not 
 blow wind into so empty a bladder, and be accessary to puff 
 him up with self-conceit; or because Amalek was the devil's 
 first-fruits, which first brake the peace with Israel, and God 
 
 * Lynwood, lib. 3. cap. Quanquam exsolventibus." 
 
198 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 commanded an antipathy against them ; or he had some pri- 
 vate countermand from God not to reverence him. What- 
 ever it was, I had rather accuse myself of ignorance, than 
 Mordecai of pride. 
 
 Haman swells at this neglect. Will not his knees bow ? 
 his neck shall break with a halter. But oh, this was but 
 poor and private revenge : one lark will not fill the belly of 
 such a vulture. What, if Mordecai will not stoop to Haman, 
 must Haman stoop to Mordecai to be revenged of him alone ? 
 Wherefore, he plotteth with the king's sword to cut off the 
 whole nation of the Jews. 
 
 Repairing to Ahasuerus, he requested that all the Jews 
 might be destroyed. He backs his petition with three argu- 
 ments. First, it was a scattered nation ; had they inhabited 
 one entire country, their extirpation would have weakened 
 his empire, but being dispersed, though killed everywhere, 
 they would have been missed nowhere : secondly, his em- 
 pire would be more uniform when this irregular people, not 
 obser\dn2: his laws, were taken away : thirdly, ten thousand 
 talents Haman would pay into the bargain into the king's 
 treasure. 
 
 What, out of his own purse? I see his pride was above 
 his covetousness ; and spiteful men count their revenge a 
 purchase which cannot be over-bought : or perchance this 
 money should arise out of the confiscation of their goods. 
 Thus Ahasuerus should lock all the Jews into his chest, and 
 by help of Haman's chemistry convert them into silver. 
 
 See how this grand destroyer of a whole nation pleads the 
 king's profit. Thus our puny depopulators allege for their 
 doincjs the king's and country's good ; and we will believe 
 them, when they can persuade us that their private coffers are 
 the king's exchequer. But never any wounded the common- 
 wealth, but first they kissed it, pretending the public good. 
 
 Haman's silver is dross with Ahasuerus : only his pleasure 
 is current with him. Tf Haman will have it so, so it shall 
 freely be; he will give him and not sell him his favour. It 
 is wofiil when great judges see parties accused by other 
 men's eyes, but condemn them by their own mouths: and 
 now posts were sent throughout all Persia to execute the 
 king's cruel decree. 
 
 I had almost forgotten how before this time ]Mordecai had 
 
LIFE OF HAM AN. 199 
 discovered the treason which two of the king's chamberlains 
 had plotted against him ; which good service of his, though 
 not presently paid, yet was scored up in the chronicles, not 
 rewarded but recorded, where it slept till a due occasion did 
 awake it. Perchance Haman's envy kept it from the king's 
 knowledge ; and princes sometimes, to reward the desert of 
 men, want not mind, but minding of it. 
 
 To proceed : see the Jews all pitifully pensive, and fasting 
 in sackcloth and ashes, even to Queen Esther herself, who, 
 unknown to Haman, was one of that nation. And to be 
 brief, Esther invites Aliasuerus and Haman to a banquet 
 (whose life shall pay the reckoning), and next day they are 
 both invited to a second entertainment. 
 
 Meantime Haman provides a gallows of fifty cubits high 
 to hang Mordecai on. Five cubits would have served the 
 turn : and had it took effect, the height of the gallows had 
 but set his soul so much the farther on his journey towards 
 heaven. His stomach was so sharp set, he could not stay 
 till he had dined on all the Jews, but first he must break 
 his fast on Mordecai ; and fit it was this bell-wether should 
 be sacrificed before the rest of the flock ; wherefore he comes 
 to the court to get leave to put hmi to death. 
 
 The night before, Ahasuerus had passed without sleep. 
 The chronicles are called for, either to invite slumber, or to 
 entertain waking with the less tediousness. God's hand, in 
 the margin, points the reader to the place where Mordecai's 
 good service was related; and Ahasuerus asketh Haman, 
 newly come into the presence, " What shall be done to the 
 man whom the king will honour ?" 
 
 Haman being now, as he thought, to measure his own 
 happiness, had been much to blame if he made it not of the 
 largest size. He cuts out a garment of honour, royal both 
 for matter and making, for Mordecai to wear. By the 
 king's command he becomes Mordecai's herald and page, 
 lackeying by him, riding on the king's steed (who he hoped 
 by this time should have mounted the wooden horse), and 
 then pensive in heart, hastes home to bemoan himself to his 
 friends. Haman's wife proves a true prophetess, presaging 
 his ruin. If the feet of a favourite begin to slip on the steep 
 hill of honour, his own weight will down with him to the 
 bottom : once past noon with him, it is presently night. 
 
200 THE HOLY ST J TE. 
 
 For at the next feast Ahasuerus is mortally incensed against 
 him for plotting the death of Esther, with the rest of her 
 people. (For had his project succeeded, probably the Jew 
 had not been spared for being a queen, but the queen had 
 been killed for being a Jew.) Haman, in a careless sorrow- 
 ful posture, more minding his life than his lust, had cast 
 himself on the queen's bed. Will he force the queen also, 
 said Ahasuerus, before me in the house ? These words rang 
 his passing-bell in the court, and, according to the Persian 
 fashion, they covered his face, putting him in a winding sheet 
 that was dead in the king's favour. The next news we hear 
 of him is that, by exchange, Haman inherits the gibbet of 
 Mordecai, and Mordecai the house and greatness of Ilaman, 
 the decree against the Jews being generally reversed. 
 
 LXVIII. — The Life of Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 '^p^HOMAS Wolsey was born at Ipswich in Suffolk, 
 JL whose father was a butcher, and an honest man,* and 
 was there brought up at school, where afterwards he built a 
 beautiful college. From Ipswich he went to Oxford, and 
 from thence was preferred to be schoolmaster to the Marquis 
 of Dorset's children, where he first learnt to be imperious 
 over noble blood. By the stairs of a parsonage or two he 
 climbed up at last into the notice of Fox, bishop of Win- 
 chester, and was received to be his secretaiy. 
 
 There was at that time a faction at court betwixt Bishop 
 Fox and Thomas Howard, earl of Surrey. Tlie bishop being 
 very old was scarce able to maice good his party; yet it 
 grieved him not so much to stoop to nature as to the earl 
 his co-rival ; wherefore, not able to manage the matter him- 
 self, he was contented to be the stock whereon Wolsey should 
 be grafted, whom he made heir to his favour, commending 
 him to King Henry the Seventh for one fit to serve a king, 
 and command others : and hereupon he was entertained at 
 court. 
 
 Soon after, when Henry his son came to the crown, Wolsey 
 
 * " Parentem habuit viruin probuin at lanium." — Pol. Virgil, 
 p. 633. 
 
LIFE OF WOLSEY. 201 
 quickly found the length of his foot, and fitted him with an 
 easy shoe. He persuaded him that it was good accepting of 
 pleasure whilst youth tendered it : let him follow his sports, 
 whilst Wolsey would undertake every night briefly to repre- 
 sent unto him all matters of moment which had passed the 
 council-table. For princes are to take state affairs, not in 
 the mass and whole bulk of them, but only the spirits thereof 
 skilfully extracted. And hereupon the king referred all 
 matters to ^^ olsey's managing, on whom he conferred the 
 bishopricks of Durham, Winchester, and York, with some 
 other spiritual promotions. 
 
 Nothing now hindered Wolsey 's prospect to overlook the 
 whole court, but the head of Edward Stafford, duke of Buck- 
 ingham, who was high in birth, honour, and estate. For as 
 for Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, he stood not in Wol- 
 sey's way, but rather besides than against him : Brandon 
 being the king's companion in pleasures, Wolsey his coun- 
 cillor in policy ; Brandon favourite to Henry, Wolsey to the 
 king. Wolsey takes this Buckingham to task, who, other- 
 wise a brave gentleman, was proud and popular; and that 
 tower is easily undermined whose foundation is hollow. 
 His own folly, with Wolsey's malice, overthrew him. Vain- 
 glory ever lieth at an open guard, and givethmuch advantage 
 of play to her enemies. The duke is condemned of high 
 treason, though rather co-rival with the king for his clothes 
 than his crown, being excessively brave in apparel. 
 
 The axe that kills Buckingham frights all others, who turn 
 contesting into complying with our archbishop, now car- 
 dinal, legate d latere, and lord-chancellor. All the judges 
 stood at the bar of his devotion : his displeasure more feared 
 than the king's, whose anger, though violent, was placable ; 
 the cardinal's of less fury, but more malice : yet in matters 
 of judicature he behaved himself commendably. I hear no 
 widows' sighs, nor see orphans' tears in our chronicles caused 
 by him : sure, in such cases wherein his private ends made 
 him not a party, he was an excellent justicer, as being too 
 proud to be bribed, and too strong to be overborne. 
 
 Next, he aspires to the triple crown ; he only wants iioli- 
 ness, and must be pope. Yet was it a great labour for a 
 tramountain to climb over the Alps to St. Peter's chair; a 
 long leap from York to Kome, and therefore he needed to 
 
202 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 take a good rise. Besides, he used Charles the Fifth, em- 
 peror, for his staff ; gold he gave to the Romish cardinals, 
 and they gave him golden promises, so that at last Wolsey 
 perceived, both the emperor and the court of Rome delayed 
 and deluded him. 
 
 He is no fox whose den hath but one hole : Wolsey find- 
 ing this way stopped, goes another way to work, and falls off 
 to the French kino, hoping, by his help, to obtain his desires. 
 However, if he help not himself, he would hinder Charles 
 the emperor's designs ; and revenge is a great preferment. 
 Wherefore, covertly, he seeks to make a divorce betwixt 
 Queen Katharine, dowager, the emperor's aunt, and King 
 Henry the Eighth, his master. 
 
 Queen Katharine's age was above her husband's, her gravity 
 above her age ; more pious at her beads than pleasant in her 
 bed, a better woman than a wife, and a fitter wife for any 
 prince than King Henry. Wolsey, by his instruments, 
 persuades the king to put her away, pleading they were so 
 contiguous and near in kindred, they might not be made 
 continuous, one flesh, in marriage, because she before had 
 been wife to Prince Arthur, the king's brother. Besides the 
 king wanted a male heir, which he much desired. 
 
 Welcome whisperings are quickly heard. The king em- 
 braceth the motion : the matter is entered in the Romish 
 court, but long delayed ; the pope first meaning to divorce 
 most of the gold from England in this tedious suit. But 
 here Wolsey miscarried in the masterpiece of his policy. 
 For he hoped upon the divorce of King Henry from Queen 
 Katharine, his wife, which with much ado was eftected, to 
 advance a marriage betwixt him and the king of France his 
 sister, thinking with their nuptial ring to wed the king of 
 France eternally to himself, and mould him for farther designs ; 
 whereas, contrary to his expectation, King Henry fell in love 
 with Anna Boleyn, a lady whose beauty exceeded her birth, 
 though honourable ; wit, her beauty ; piety, all ; one for his 
 love, not lust, so that there was no gathering, of green fruit 
 from her till marriage had ripened it ; whereupon the king 
 took her to wife. 
 
 Not long after followed the ruin of the cardinal, caused by 
 his own viciousness, heightened by the envy of his adver- 
 fsaries. He was caught in a premunire for procuring to be 
 
LIFE OF WOLSEY. 203 
 
 legate tic latere, and advancing the pope's power against the 
 laws of the realm ; and eight other articles were framed 
 against him, for which we report the reader to our chronicles.* 
 The main was, his ego et rex mius, wherein he remembered 
 his old profession of a schoolmaster, and forgot his present 
 estate of a statesman. But as for some things laid to his 
 charge, his friends plead, that where potent malice is pro- 
 moter, the accusations shall not want proof, though the proof 
 may want truth. Well, the broad seal was taken from him, 
 and some of his spiritual preferments. Yet was he still left 
 bishop of Winchester and archbishop of York, so that the 
 king's goodness hitherto might have seemed rather to ease him 
 of burthensome greatness, than to have deprived him of wealth 
 or honour ; which, whether he did out of love to Wolsey or 
 fear of the pope, I interpose no opinion. 
 
 Home now went Wolsey into Yorkshire, and lived at his 
 manor of Cawood, where he wanted nothing the heart of man 
 could desire for contentment. But great minds count every- 
 place a prison, which is not a king's court; and just it was 
 that he who would not see his own happiness, should therefore 
 feel his own misery. He provided for his enstalling arch- 
 bishop state equivalent to a king's coronation, which his am- 
 bition revived other of his misdemeanors, and by command 
 from the king he was arrested by the earl of Northumberland, 
 and so took his journeys up to London. By the way his soul 
 was racked betwixt different tidings ; now hoisted up with 
 hope of pardon, then instantly let down with news of the 
 king's displeasure, till at Leicester his heart was broken with 
 these sudden and contrary motions. The story goes that he 
 should breathe out his soul with speeches to this effect : Had 
 I been as careful to serve the God of heaven, as I have to 
 comply to the will of my earthly king, God would not have 
 left me in mine old age, as the other hath done. 
 
 His body swelled after his death, as his mind did whilst he 
 was living, which, with other symptoms, gave the suspicion 
 that he poisoned himself. It will suffice us to observe, if a 
 great man much beloved dieth suddenly, the report goes that 
 others poisoned him : if he be generally hated, then that he 
 poisoned himself. Sure never did a great man fall with less 
 
 * Fox, Acts and Monuments, p. 996. 
 
204 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 pity. Some of his own servants, with the feathers they got 
 under under him, flew to other masters. Most of the clergy, 
 more pitying his profession than person, were glad that the 
 felhng of this oak would cause the growth of much under- 
 wood. 
 
 Let geometricians measure the vastness of his mind by 
 the footsteps of his buildings; Christ Church, \\Tiitehall, 
 Hampton Court : and no wonder if some of these were not 
 finished, seeing his life was rather broken off than ended. 
 Sure King Henry lived in two of his houses, and lies now in 
 the third, I mean his tomb at Windsor. In a word, in his 
 prime he was the bias of the Christian world, drawing the 
 bowl thereof to what side he pleased. 
 
 LXIX. — The Life of Charles Braxuox, 
 DvKE OF Suffolk. 
 
 CHARLES Brandon was son to Sir William Brandon, 
 standard-bearer to King Henry the Seventh, in whose 
 quarrel he was slain in Bosworth field ; wherefore the king 
 counted himself bound in honour and conscience to favour 
 young Charles, whose father spent his last breath to blow 
 him to the haven of victory, and caused him to be brought 
 up with Prince Henry, his second son. 
 
 The intimacy betwixt them look deep impression in their 
 tender years, which, hardened with continuance of time, 
 proved indelible. It was advanced by the sympathy of their 
 active spirits, men of quick and large-striding minds lovirig 
 to walk together, not to say that the looseness of their youth- 
 ful lives made them the faster friends. Henry, when after- 
 wards king, heaped honours upon him, created him \'iscount 
 Lisle and Duke of Suffolk. 
 
 Not long after, some of the English nobility got leave to 
 go to the public tilting in Paris, and there behaved them- 
 selves right valiantly, though the sullen French would scarce 
 speak a word in their praise. For they conceived it would 
 be an eternal impoverishing of the credit of their nation, if 
 the honour of the day should be exported by foreigners. But 
 Brandon bare away the credit from all, fighting at barriers 
 with a giant Almain, till he made an earthquake in that 
 mountain of flesh, making him reel and stagger; aud many 
 
LIFE OF BRANDON. 205 
 otlier courses at tilt he performed to admiration.* Yea, the 
 lords beheld him not with more envious, than the ladies with 
 gracious eyes, who darted more glances in love, than the 
 other ran spears in anger against him ; especially Mary, the 
 Trench queen, and sister to King Henry the Eighth, who 
 afterwards proved his wife. 
 
 For after the death of Lewis the Twelfth her husband, 
 King Henry her brother employed Charles Brandon to bring 
 her over into England; who improved his service so well 
 that he got her good will to marry her. Whether his affec- 
 tions were so ambitious to climb up to her, or hers so cour- 
 teous as to descend to him, who had been twice a widower 
 before,-]- let youthful pens dispute it : it sufficeth us both 
 met together. Then wrote he in humble manner to request 
 King Henry's leave to marry his sister ; but knowing that 
 matters of this nature are never sure till finished, and that leave 
 is sooner got to do such attempts when done already ; and 
 wisely considering with himself that there are but few days 
 in the Almanack wherein such marriages come in, and sub- 
 jects have opportunity to wed queens, he first married her 
 privately in Paris. J 
 
 King Henry, after the acting of some anger, and shewing 
 some state-discontent, was quickly contented therewith ; yea, 
 the world conceiveth that he gave this woman to be main ied to 
 this man, in sending him on such an employment. At Calais 
 they were afterwards remarried, or, if you will, their former 
 private marriage publicly solemnized, and coming into Eng- 
 land, lived many years in honour and esteem, no less dear to 
 his fellow-subjects than his sovereign. He was often em- 
 ployed general in martial affairs, especially in the wars be- 
 twixt the Englisli and French, though the greatest perform- 
 ance on both sides was but mutual indenting the dominions 
 each of other with inroads. 
 
 When the divorce of King Henry from Queen Katharine 
 was so long in agitation, Brandon found not himself a little 
 aggrieved at the king's expense of time and money : for the 
 
 » Holinshed, p. 833. 
 
 t First married to Margaret Nevil, after to Anne, daughter 
 to Sir Anthony Erovvn. 
 ; Holinshed, p. 836. 
 
206 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 court of Rome, in such matters, wherein money is gotten by 
 delays, will make no more speed than the beast in Brazil, 
 which the Spaniards call Pigritia, which goes no farther in 
 a fortnight than a man will cast a stone. Yea, Brandon well 
 perceived that Cardinals Campeius and ^^'olsey, in their court 
 at Bridewell, wherein the divorce was judicially handled, in- 
 tended only to produce a solemn nothing, their court being 
 but the clock set according to the dial at Rome, and the in- 
 structions received thence. Wherefore knocking on the table, 
 in the presence of the two cardinals, he bound it with an oath, 
 that it Mas never well in England since cardinals had any 
 thing to do therein: and from that time forward, as an active 
 instrument, he endeavoured the abolishing of the pope's 
 power in England. 
 
 For he was not only, as the papists complain of him,* 
 a principal agent in that parliament, anno lo34r, wherein 
 the pope's supremacy was abrogated, but also a main means 
 of the overturning of abbeys, as conceiving that, though the 
 head was struck oft', yet as long as that neck and those shoul- 
 ders remained, there would be a contmual appetite of re- 
 uniting themselves. Herein his thoughts were more pure from 
 the mixture of covetousness than many other employed in 
 the same service: for after that our eyes, justly dazzled at 
 first with the brightness of God's justice on those vicious fra- 
 ternities, have somewhat recovered themselves, they will serve 
 us to see the greedy appetites of some instruments to feed on 
 church morsels.* 
 
 He lived and died in the full favour of his prince, though 
 as Cardinal Pole observed, they who were highest in this 
 king's favour, their heads were nearest danger. Indeed King 
 Henry was not very tender in cutting oft' that joint ; and 
 in his reign the axe was seldom wiped, before wetted again 
 with noble blood. He died, anno 1544, much beloved and 
 lamented of all, for his bovmty, humility, valour, and all 
 noble virtues, since the heat of his youth was tamed in his 
 reduced age, and lies buried at Windsor. 
 
 * Sanders, de Schlsiuate Auglicano, p. 108. 
 
207 
 
 LXX. — The Wise Statesman. 
 
 TO describe the statesman at large, is a subject rather of 
 a volume than a chapter, and is as far beyond my power 
 as wide of my profession. We will not launch into the deep, 
 but satisfy ourselves to sail by the shore, and briefly observe 
 his carriage towards God, his king, himself, home persons, 
 and foreign princes. 
 
 1. He counts the fear of God the beginning o f wisdom ; 
 and therefore esteemeth no project profitable, which is not 
 lawful ; nothing politic, which crosseth piety. Let not any 
 plead for the contrary Hushai's dealing with Absalom, which 
 strongly savoured of double-dealing ; for what is a question 
 cannot be an argument, seeing the lawfulness of his deed 
 therein was never decided ; and he is unwise that will venture 
 the state of his soul on the litigious title of such an example. 
 Besides, we must live by God's precepts, not by the godliest 
 practice. And though God causeth sometimes the sun of 
 success to shine as well on bad as good projects, yet com- 
 monly wicked actions end in shame at the last. 
 
 2. In giving counsel to his prince, he had rather displease 
 than hurt him. Plain dealing is one of the daintiest rarities 
 can be presented to some princes, as being novelty to them 
 all times of the year. The philosopher could say, Quid omnia 
 possidentibus deest? Ille qui verum dicat.* Wherefore our 
 statesman seeks to undeceive his prince from the fallacies of 
 flatterers, who by their plausible persuasions have bolstered 
 up their crooked counsels, to make them seem straight in 
 the king's eyes. 
 
 3. Yet if dissent ing from his sovereign, he doth it with all 
 humility and moderation. It is neither manners nor wit to 
 cross princes in their game, much less in their serious aflfairs. 
 Yea, it may be rebellion in a subject to give his sovereign 
 loyal counsel, if proceeding from a spirit of contradiction 
 and contempt, and uttered in audacious language. What do 
 these but give wholesome physic, wrapped up in poisoned 
 papers ? 
 
 4. He is constant, hut not obstinate in the advice he given. 
 
 * Seneca, de Benefic. lib. 3. cap. 30. 
 
208 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Some think it beneath a wise man to alter their opinion ; a 
 maxim both false and dangerous. We know what worthy 
 father wrote his own retractation ; and it matters not though 
 we go back from our word, so we go forward in the truth 
 and a sound judgment. Such a one changeth not his main 
 opinion, which ever was this, to embrace that course which 
 upon mature deliberation shall appear unto him the most 
 advised. As for his carriage towards himself, 
 
 5. He taketh an exact survei/ of his own defects and per- 
 fections. As for the former, his weaknesses and infirmities 
 he doth carefully and wisely conceal : sometimes he covers 
 them over with a cautious confidence, and presents a fair 
 hilt, but keeps the sword in the sheath which wanteth an edge. 
 But this he manageth with much art ; otherwise, being 
 betrayed, it would prove most ridiculous, and it would make 
 brave music to his enemies, to hear the hissing of an empty 
 bladder when it is pricked. 
 
 6. His known perfections he seeks modestly to cloud and 
 obscure. It is needless to shew the sun shining, which will 
 break out of itself. Not like our fantastics, who having a fine 
 watch, take all occasions to draw it out to be seen. Yea, 
 because sometimes he concealeth his sufficiency in such things 
 wherein others know he hath ability, he shall therefore be 
 thought at other times to have ability in those matters wherein 
 indeed he wants it, men interpreting him therein rather 
 modestly to dissemble, than to be defective. Yet when just 
 occasion is offered, he shews his perfections soundly, though 
 seldom, and then graceth them out to the best advantage. 
 
 7. In discourse he is neither too free, nor over-reserved, but 
 observes a mediocrity. His hall is common to all comers, but 
 his closet is locked. General matters he is as liberal to impart, 
 as careful to conceal importances. Moderate liberty in speech 
 inviteth and provoketh liberty to be used again, where a con- 
 stant closeness makes all suspect him : and his company is 
 burthensome that liveth altogether on the expenses of others, 
 and will lay out nothing himself. Yea, who will barter in- 
 telligence with him, that returns no considerable ware in ex- 
 change ? 
 
 8. He trusteth not any with a secret which may endanger 
 his estate. For if he tells it to his servant, he makes him his 
 master ; if to his friend, he enables him to be a foe, and to j 
 
THE WISE STATESMAN. 209 
 undo him at pleasure, whose secrecy he must buy at the 
 party's own price, and if ever he shuts his purse, the other 
 opens his mouth. Matters of inferior consequence he will 
 communicate to a fast friend, and crave his advice; for two 
 eyes see more than one, though it be never so big, and set, as 
 in Polyphemus, in the midst of the forehead. 
 
 9. He is caref ul and provident in the managing of his 
 private estate. Excellently Ambrose,* An idoneum putabo 
 qui mihi det consilium, qui non dat sibi? Well may princes 
 suspect those statesmen not to be wise in the business of the 
 commonwealth, who are fools in ordering their own affairs. 
 Our politician, if he enlargeth not his own estate, at least 
 keeps it in good repair. As for avaricious courses he disdaineth 
 them. Sir Thomas More, though some years lord-chancellor 
 of England, scarce left his son five-and-twenty pounds a year 
 more than his father left him.f And Sir Henry Sydney 
 (father to Sir Philip) being lord-president of Wales and 
 Ireland, got not one foot of land in either country, rather 
 seeking after the common good than his private profit.^ I 
 must confess the last age produced an English statesman who 
 was the picklock of the cabinets of foreign princes, who, 
 though the wisest in his time and way, died poor and indebted 
 to private men, though not so much as the whole kingdom 
 was indebted to him. But such an accident is rare ; and a 
 small hospital will hold those statesmen who have impaired 
 their means, not by their private carelessness, but carefulness 
 for the public. As for his carriage towards home-persons, 
 
 10. He studieth merits natures, first reading the title-pages 
 of them by the report o ffume ; but credits not fame's relations 
 to the full. Otherwise, as in London Exchange, one shall 
 overbuy wares who gives half the price at first demanded, so 
 he that believeth the moiety of fame may believe too much. 
 Wherefore, to be more accurate, 
 
 11. He reads the chapters of men's natures, chiefly his con- 
 currents and competitors, by the reports of their friends and 
 foes, making allowance for their engagements, not believing 
 all in the mass, but only what he judiciously extracteth. Yet 
 
 * Lib. 2. de Offic. cap. 112. 
 t Sanders, de Schism. Anglic, p. 118. 
 X Henry Lhoid, in the beginning of his Welsh Chronicle, 
 p 
 
210 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 virtues confessed by their foes, and vices acknowledged by 
 their friends, are commonly true. The best intelligence, if it 
 can be obtained, is from a fugitive privado. 
 
 12. But the most legible character and truest edition 
 wherein he reads a man is in his own occasional openings : 
 and that in these three cases : 
 
 1 . When the party discloses himself in his wine : for 
 though it be unlawful to practise on any to make them 
 drunk, yet, no doubt, one may make a good use of another 
 man's abusing himself. What they say of the herb lunaria 
 ceremoniously gathered at some set times, that laid upon 
 any lock it makes it fly open, is most true of drunkenness 
 unbolting the most important secrets. 
 
 2. When he discovereth himself in his passions. Phy- 
 sicians, to make some small veins in their patients' arms 
 plump and full, that they may see them the better to let 
 them bleed, use to put them into hot water: so the heat of 
 passion presenteth many invisible veins in men's hearts to 
 the eye of the beholder ; yea, the sweat of anger washeth 
 off their paint, and makes them appear in their true 
 colours. 
 
 3. When accidentally they bolt out speeches unawares 
 to themselves. More hold is then to be taken of a few 
 words casually uttered, than of set solemn speeches, which 
 rather shew men's arts than their natures, as indited rather 
 from their brains than hearts. The drop of one word may 
 shew more than the stream of a whole oration ; and our 
 statesman, by examining such fugitive passages, which 
 have stolen on a sudden out of the party's mouth, arrives 
 at his best intelligence. 
 
 13. In court factions he keeps himself in a free neutrality/. 
 Otherwise to engage himself needlessly, were both folly and 
 danger. When Francis the First, king of France, was con- 
 sulting with his captains how to lead his army over the Alps 
 into Italy, whether this way or that way,* Amarill, his fool, 
 sprung out of a corner, where he sat unseen, and bade them 
 rather take care which way they should bring their army out 
 of Italy back again. Thus is it easy for one to interest and 
 
 * Pere de Lancre, of the Uncertainty of Things, lib. 2. fourth 
 discourse. 
 
THE WISE STATESMAN. 211 
 embark himself in others' quarrels, but much difficulty it is to 
 be disengaged from them afterwards. Nor will our statesman 
 entitle himself party in any feminine discords, knowing that 
 rcotnen's jars breed mens wars. 
 
 14. Yet he counts neutraliti/ profaneness in such mutters 
 wherein God, his prince, the church, or state, are concerned. 
 Indeed, he that meddleth with strife not belonging unto him, 
 is like one that taketh a dog by the eai^s.* Yet if the dog 
 worrieth a sheep, we may, yea ought to rescue it from his 
 teeth, and must be champions for innocence when it is over- 
 borne with might. He that will stand neuter in such matters 
 of moment, wherein his calling commands him to be a party, 
 with Servihus in Rome, will please neither side : of whom 
 the historian says, P. Servilius medium se gerendo, nec plebis 
 vitavit odium, nec apud patres gratiam inivit. And just it 
 is with God, that they should be strained in the twist, who 
 stride so wide as to set their legs in two opposite sides. In- 
 deed, an upright shoe may fit both feet, but never saw I glove 
 that would serve both hands. Neutrality in matters of an 
 indifferent nature may fit well, but never suit well in impor- 
 tant matters of far different conditions. 
 
 15. He is the centime wherein lines of intelligence meet from 
 all foreign countries. He is careful that his outlandish in- 
 structions be full, true, and speedy ; not with the sluggard 
 telling for news at noon, that the sun is risen. But more 
 largely hereof in the ambassador hereafter. 
 
 16. He refuseth all underhand pensions from foreign 
 princes. Indeed, honorary rewards received with the appro- 
 bation of his sovereign, may be lawful and less dangerous. 
 For although even such gifts tacitly oblige him, by w^ay of 
 gratitude, to do all good offices to that foreign prince whose 
 pensioner he is, yet his counsels pass not but with an open 
 abatement, in regard of his known engagements, and so the 
 state is armed against the advice of such who are well known 
 to lean to one side. But secret pensions which flow from 
 foreign princes, like the river Anas in Spain, under ground, 
 not known or discerned, are most mischievous. The receivers 
 of such will play under-board at the council-table ; and the 
 eating and digesting of such outlandish food w ill by degrees 
 
 * Prov. xxvi. 17. 
 
212 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 fill their veins with outlandish blood, even in their very 
 
 hearts. 
 
 17. His 7nasterpiece is in negociating for his awn master 
 xcith foreign princes. At Rhodes there was a contention be- 
 twixt Apelles and Protogenes, co-rivals in the mystery of 
 limning. Apelles, with his pencil, drew a very slender even 
 line; Protogenes drew another more small and slender, in 
 the midst thereof with another colour : Apelles again, with 
 a third line of a different colour, drew through the midst of 
 that Protogenes had made : Nullum relinquens amplius sub- 
 tilitati locum.^ Thus our statesman traverseth matters, 
 doubling and redoubling in his foreign negotiations with the 
 politicians of other princes, winding and entrenching them- 
 selves mutually within the thoughts each of other, till at last 
 our statesman leaves no degrees of subtilty to go beyond 
 him. 
 
 To conclude, some plead that dissembling is lawful in 
 state-craft, upon the presupposition that men must meet 
 with others who dissemble. Yea, they hold, that thus to 
 counterfeit, se defendendo, against a crafty co-rival, is no sin, 
 but a just punishment on our adversary, who first began it. 
 And therefore statesmen sometimes must use crooked shoes 
 to fit hurled feet. Besides, the honest politician would 
 quickly be beggared, if, receiving black money from cheaters, 
 he pays them in good silver, and not in their own coin back 
 again. For my part, I confess that herein I rather see what, 
 than whither to fly; neither able to answer their arguments, 
 nor willing to allow their practice. But what shall I say ? 
 they need to have steady heads who can dive into these gulfs 
 of policy, and come out with a safe conscience. I will look 
 no longer on those whirlpools of state, lest my pen turn 
 giddy. 
 
 LXXI. — The'Life of William Cecil 
 Lord Burleigh. 
 
 WILLIAM Cecil, born at Bourne, in Lincolnshire, de- 
 scended from the ancient and worshipful family of the 
 Sitsilts or Cecils of Alterynnis in Herefordshire, on the con- 
 
 * Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 34. cap. 10. 
 
LIFE OF CECIL. 213 
 
 fines of Wales ; a name which a great antiquary thinks pro- 
 bably derived from the Roman Cecilii* No credit is to be 
 given to their pens vs?ho tax him with meanness of birth, and 
 whose malice is so general against all goodness, that it had 
 been a slander if this worthy man had not been slandered 
 by them : the servant is not above his master ; and we know 
 what aspersions their malice sought to cast on the queen 
 herself. 
 
 He being first bred in St. John's College in Cambridge, 
 went thence to Gray's Inn (and used it as an inn indeed, 
 studying there in his passage to the court), where he attained 
 good learning in the laws : yet his skill in fencing made him 
 not daring to quarrel, who, in all his lifetime, neither sued 
 any, nor was sued himself.f He was afterwards master of 
 the requests (the first that ever bare that office) unto the 
 duke of Somerset, lord-protector, and was knighted by King 
 Edward the Sixth. 
 
 One challengeth him to have been a main contriver of 
 that act and unnatural will of King Edward the Sixth, j 
 wherein the king passing by his sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, 
 entailed the crown on Queen Jane; and that he furnished 
 that act with reasons of state, as Judge Montague filled it 
 with arguments of law. Indeed his hand wrote it, as secre- 
 tary of state, but his heart consented not thereto ; yea, he 
 openly opposed it, though, at last, yielding to the greatness 
 of Northumberland, in an age wherein it was present drown- 
 ing, not to swim along with the stream. § But as the philo- 
 sopher tells us, that though the planets be whirled about 
 daily from east to west by the motion of the prinium mobile, \\ 
 yet have they also a contrary proper motion of their own, 
 from west to east, which they slowly, yet surely move at 
 their leisures : so Cecil had secret counter endeavours against 
 the strain of the court herein, and privately advanced his 
 rightful intentions against the foresaid duke's ambition ; and 
 we see, that afterward Queen Mary not only pardoned but 
 
 * Verstegan, Restitut. of Decayed Intelligence, p. 312. 
 t Cambd. Elizab. in anno 1598. 
 
 t Sir John Hayward, in his Edward the Sixth, p. 417. 
 
 § Cambden, ut prius. 
 
 II Aristot. lib. ii. de Coelo, cap. 4 et 10. 
 
214 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 employed him ; so that towards the end of her reign he 
 
 stood in some twihght of her favour. 
 
 As for Sir Edward Montague, lord chief-justice, what he 
 did was, by command, against his own will, as appears by 
 his written protestation at his death, still in the hands of his 
 honourable posterity. But whilst in this army of offenders, 
 the nobility in the front made an escape for themselves, 
 Queen Mary's displeasure overtook the old judge in the 
 rear, the good old man being not able with such speed to 
 provide for himself ; yea, though he had done nothing but 
 by general consent and command, the rest of tlie lords laid 
 load on him, desirous that the queen's anger should send 
 him on an errand to the prison, and thence to the scaftbld, 
 to excuse themselves from going on the same message. 
 However, after some imprisonment he was pardoned ; a 
 sufficient argument that the queen conceived him to concur 
 passively in that action. 
 
 In Queen Elizabeth's days he was made secretary of state, 
 master of the wards, lord treasurer, and at last, after long 
 service, baron of Burleigh. For the queen honoured her 
 honours in conferring them sparingly, thereby making titles 
 more substantial, wherewith she paid many for their senice. 
 The best demonstration of his care in stewarding her treasure 
 was this, that the queen, vpng gold and silver with the king 
 of Spain, had money or credit, when the other had neither : 
 her exchequer, though but a pond in comparison, holding 
 water, when his river, fed with a spring from the Indies, was 
 drained dry. 
 
 In that grand faction bet\^'ixt Leicester and Sussex, he 
 meddled not openly, though it is easy to tell whom he wished 
 the best to. Indeed this cunning wTestler would never catch 
 hold to grapple openly with Leicester (as having somewhat 
 the disadvantage of him both in height and strength), but as 
 they ran to their several goals, if they chanced to meet, Bur- 
 leigh would fairly give him a trip, and be gone ; and the 
 earl had many a rub laid in his way, yet never saw who put 
 it there. 
 
 It is true, the sword-men accused him as too cold in the 
 queen's credit, and backward in fighting against foreign 
 enemies. Indeed he would never engage the state in a war, 
 except necessity, or her majesty's honour, sounded the alarm. 
 
LIFE OF CECIL. 215 
 
 But no reason he should be counted an enemy to the sparks 
 of valour, who was so careful to provide them fuel, and pay 
 the soldier. Otherwise, in vain do the brows frown, the eyes 
 sparkle, the tongue threaten, the fist bend, and the arm strike, 
 except the belly be fed. 
 
 The queen reflected her favour highly upon him, counting 
 him both her treasurer, and her principal treasure. She 
 would cause him always to sit down in her presence, because 
 troubled with the gout, and used to tell him : My lord, we 
 make much of you, 7wt for your had legs, but for your good 
 head. This caused him to be much envied of some great ones 
 at court ; and at one time, no fewer than the marquis of 
 Winchester,* duke of Norfolk, earls of Arundel, Northum- 
 berland, Westmoreland, Pembroke and Leicester, combining 
 against him, taking advantage about his making over some 
 moneys beyond sea to the French protestants, and on some 
 other occasions ; Sir Nicholas Throgmorton advised them 
 first to clap him up in prison, saying, that if he were once 
 shut up, men would open their mouths to speak freely against 
 him. But the queen, understanding hereof, and standing, 
 as I may say, in the very prison door, quashed all their 
 designs, and freed him from the mischief projected against 
 him. 
 
 He was a good friend to the church, as then established 
 by law; he used to advise his eldest son, Thomas, never to 
 bestow any great cost, or to build any great house on an 
 impropriation, as fearing the foundation might fail hereafter. 
 A patron to both universities, chiefly to Cambridge, whereof 
 he was chancellor ; and though rent-corn first grew in the 
 head of Sir Thomas Smith, it was ripened by Burleigh's as- 
 sistance, whereby, though the rents of colleges stand still, 
 their revenues increase. 
 
 No man was m.ore pleasant and merry at meals ; and he 
 had a pretty wit-rack in himself, to make the dumb to speak, 
 to draw speech out of the most sullen and silent guest at his 
 table, to shew his disposition in any point he should pro- 
 pound. f For foreign intelligence, though he traded some- 
 
 * Cambden, Elizab. anno 1579. 
 
 t Hottoman, in Descrip. of the Ambassador, witnesseth so 
 much, who had been at his table. 
 
216 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 times on the stock of Secretary Walsingham, yet wanted he 
 not a plentiful bank of his own. At night, when he put off 
 his gown, he used to say, Lie there, lord-treasurer, and, 
 bidding adieu to all state affairs, disposed himself to his 
 quiet rest. 
 
 Some, looking on the estate he left, have wondered that it 
 was so great, and afterwards wondered more that it was so 
 little, having considered what ofSces he had, and how long 
 he enjoyed them. His harvest lasted every day for above 
 thirty years together, wherein he allowed some of his servants 
 the same courtesy Boaz granted to Ruth, to glean even among 
 the sheaves, and to sufler some handfuls also to fall on pur- 
 pose for them, whereby they raised great estates. 
 
 To draw to a conclusion : there arose a great question in 
 state, whether war with Spain should be continued, or a peace 
 drawn up ? The sword and go\\mmen brought weighty 
 arguments on both sides, stamping also upon them with their 
 private interests, to make them more heavy : Burleigh was 
 all against war, now old, being desirous to depart in peace, 
 both private in his conscience, and public in the state. But 
 his life was determined before the question was fully decided. 
 In his sickness the queen often \asited him, a good plaster 
 to assuage his pain, but unable to prolong his life : so that, 
 cum satis nature, satisque glorice, patria autem non satis 
 vixisset, in the seventy-seventh year of his age, anno 1598, 
 he exchanged this life for a better. God measured his out- 
 ward happiness not by an ordinary standard. How many 
 great undertakers in state set in a cloud, whereas he shined 
 to the last ! Herein much is to be ascribed to the queen's 
 constancy, who, to confute the observation of feminine fickle- 
 ness, where her favour did light it did lodge ; more to his 
 own temper and moderation ; whereas violent and boisterous 
 meddlers in state, cripple themselves with aches in their age ; 
 most to God's goodness, who honoureth them that honour 
 him. He saw Thomas his eldest son richly married to an 
 honoui-able coheir; Robert, able to stand alone in court, 
 having a competent portion of favour, which he knew thriftily 
 to improve, being a pregnant proficient in state discipline. 
 
217 
 
 LXXII. — The Good Judge. 
 
 THE good advocate, whom we formerly described,* is 
 since, by his prince's favour and own deserts, ad- 
 vanced to be a judge : which his place he freely obtained, 
 with Sir Augustine Nicolls,t whom King James used to call 
 the judge that would give no money. Otherwise they that 
 buy justice by wholesale, to make themselves savers must 
 sell it by retail. 
 
 1. He is patient and attentive m hearing the pleadings on 
 both sides; and hearkens to the witnesses, though tedious. 
 He may give a waking testimony who hath but a dreaming 
 utterance ; and many country people must be impertinent 
 before they can be pertinent, and cannot give evidence about 
 a hen, but first they must begin with it in the egg. All 
 which our judge is contented to hearken to. 
 
 2. He meets not a testimony half-way, but stays till it come 
 at him. He that proceeds on half evidence will not do quar- 
 ter justice. Our judge will not go till he is led. If any 
 shall browbeat a pregnant witness, on purpose to make his 
 proof miscarry, he checketh them, and helps the witness that 
 labours in his delivery. On the other side, he nips those 
 lawyers who, under a pretence of kindness to lend a witness 
 some words, give him new matter, yea, clean contrary to 
 what he intended. 
 
 3. Having heard with patience, he gives sentence with 
 uprightness. For when he put on his robes, he put off his 
 relations to any, and, like Melchisedec, becomes without 
 pedigree. His private affections are swallowed up in the 
 common cause, as rivers lose their names in the ocean. He 
 therefore allows no noted favourites, which cannot but cause 
 multiplication of fees, and suspicion of by-ways. 
 
 4. He silences that lawyer who seeks to set the neck of a 
 bad cause., once broken with a definitive sentence ; and causeth 
 that contentious suits be spued out, as the surfeits of courts. 
 
 5. He so hates bribes that he is jealous to receive any kind- 
 ness above the ordinary proportion oj friendship ; lest like the 
 
 * Vide No. XVI. p. 40, antea. 
 
 t Bolton in his Funer. Notes on him. 
 
218 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 sermons of wandering preachers, they should end in begging. 
 And surely integrity is the proper portion of a judge. Men 
 have a touchstone whereby to try gold, but gold is the touch- 
 stone whereby to try men. It was a shrewd gird which Ca- 
 tullus gave the Roman judges for acquitting Clodius, a great 
 malefactor, when he met them going home well attended 
 with officers; You do well, quoth he, to be well guarded for 
 your safety, led the money be taken away from you, you took 
 for bribes.* Our judge also detesteth the trick of mendi- 
 cant friars, who will touch no money themselves, but have a 
 boy with a bag to receive it for them. 
 
 6. When he sits upon life, in judgment heremembereth mercy. 
 Then, they say, a butcher may not be of the jury, much less 
 let him be the judge. Oh, let him take heed how he strikes, 
 that hath a dead hand ! It was the charge Queen Mary gave 
 to Judge Morgan, chief justice of the common pleas, that 
 notwithstanding the old error amongst judges did not admit 
 any witness to speak, or any other matter to be heard in 
 favour of the adversary, her majesty being party ;t yet her 
 highness' pleasure was that whatsoever could be brought in 
 the favour of the subject, should be admitted and heard. 
 
 7. If the cause be difficult, his diligence is the greater to 
 sift it out. For though there be mention (Psal. xxxvii. 6.) 
 of righteousness as clear as the noon-day, yet God forbid 
 that that innocency which is no clearer than twilight, should 
 be condemned. And seeing one's oath commands another's 
 life, he searcheth whether malice did not command that oath : 
 yet when all is done, the judge may be deceived by false evi- 
 dence. But blame not the hand of the dial if it points at a 
 false hour, when the fault is in the wheels of the clock which 
 direct it and are out of frame. 
 
 8. The sentence of condemnation lie pronounceth with all 
 gravity. It is best when steeped in the judge's tears. He 
 avoideth all jesting on men in misery : easily may he put 
 them out of countenance whom he hath power to put out of 
 life. 
 
 9. Such as are unworthy to live, and yet unfitted to die, he 
 provides shall be instructed. By God's mercy, and good 
 
 * Plutar. in the Life of Cicero, p. 872. 
 t Holinshed, in Queen Mary, p. 1112. 
 
THE GOOD JUDGE. 219 
 
 teaching, the reprieve of their bodies may get the pardon of 
 their souls, and one day's longer life for them here may pro- 
 cure a blessed eternity for them hereafter, as may appear by 
 this memorable example. It happened about the year 1556, 
 in the town of Wissenstein in Germany, that a Jew, for theft 
 he had committed, was in this cruel manner to be executed : 
 He was hanged by the feet with his head downwards betwixt 
 two dogs, which constantly snatched and bit at him. The 
 strangeness of the torment moved Jacobus Andreas, a grave 
 moderate, and learned divine as any in that age, to go to 
 behold it. Coming thither, he found the poor wretch, as he 
 hung, repeating verses out of the Hebrew Psalms, wherein 
 he cried out to God for mercy. Andreas hereupon took oc- 
 casion to counsel him to trust in Jesus Christ the true Saviour 
 of mankind. The Jew embracing the Christian faith, re- 
 quested but this one thing, that he might be taken down and 
 be baptized, though presently afterward he were hanged again 
 (but by the neck as Christian malefactors suffered), which was 
 accordingly granted him.* 
 
 10. He is exact to do justice in civil suits betwixt sovereign 
 and subject. This will most ingratiate him with his prince at 
 last. Kings neither are, can, nor should be lawyers them- 
 selves, by reason of higher state employments ; but herein they 
 see with the eyes of their judges, and at last will break those 
 false spectacles which, in point of law, shall be found to have 
 deceived them. 
 
 11. He counts the rules of state and the lavjs of the reabn 
 mutually support each other. Those who made the laws to 
 be not only desperate, but even opposite terms to maxims 
 of government, were true friends neither to laws nor govern- 
 ment. Indeed salus reip. is charta maxima, extremity makes 
 the next the best remedy. Yet though hot waters be good 
 to be given to one in a swoon, they will burn his heart out 
 who drinks them constantly when in health. Extraordinary 
 courses are not ordinarily to be used, when not enforced by 
 absolute necessity. 
 
 And thus we leave our good judge to receive a just reward 
 of his integrity from the Judge of judges, at the great assize 
 of the world. 
 
 * Melchior Adamus, in Vit. Jac. Andreee, p. 639. 
 
220 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 LXXIII. — The Life of Sir John Markham. 
 
 JOHN Markham was born at Markham in Nottingham- 
 shire, descended of an ancient and worthy family. He 
 employed his youth in the studying of the muncipal law of 
 this realm, wherein he attained to such eminency, that King 
 Edward the Fourth knighted him, and made him lord chief 
 justice of the king's bench in the place of Sir John Fortescue, 
 that learned and upright judge who fled away with King 
 Henry the Sixth.* 
 
 Yet Fortescue was not missed, because Markham succeeded 
 him : and that loss, which otherwise could not be repaired, 
 now could not be perceived. For though these two judges 
 did severally lean to the sides of Lancaster and York, yet both 
 sat upright in matters of judicature. 
 
 We will instance and insist on one memorable act of our 
 judge, which, though single in itself, was plural in the con- 
 cemings thereof. And let the reader know, that I have not 
 been careless to search, though unhappy not to find, the 
 original record, perchance abolished on purpose, and silenced 
 for telling tales to the disgrace of great ones. We must now 
 be contented to write this story out of the English chronicles ;f 
 and let him die of drought without pity who will not quench 
 his thirst at the river, because he cannot come at the fountain. 
 
 King Edward the Fourth having married into the family 
 of the Woodvilles, gentlemen of more antiquity than wealth, 
 and of higher spirits than fortunes, thought it fit for his own 
 honour to bestow honour upon them ; but he could not so 
 easily provide them of wealth as titles. For honour he could 
 derive from himself, like light from a candle, without any 
 diminishing of his own lustre ; whereas, wealth flowing from 
 him, as water fi-om a fountain, made the spring the shal- 
 lower. Wherefore he resolved to cut down some prime sub- 
 jects, and to engraft the queen's kindred into their estates, 
 which otherwise, like suckers, must feed on the stock of his 
 own exchequer. 
 
 There was at this time one Sir Thomas Cook, late lord 
 
 * 13 Maii, 1 Edwardi IV. 
 
 t Fabian, p. 497, &c.; Holinshed, p. 670, &c.; and Stow, in 12 
 of Edward the Fourth. 
 
LIFE OF MARKHAM. 221 
 mayor of London, and knight of the bath, one who had well 
 licked his fingers under Queen Margaret (whose wardrober 
 he was, and customer of Hampton) a man of a great estate. 
 It was agreed that he should be accused of high treason, and 
 a commissioner of oyer and terminer granted forth to the lord 
 mayor, the duke of Clarence, the earl of Warwick, the Lord 
 Rivers, Sir John Markham, Sir John Fogg, &c. to try him in 
 Guildhall : and the king, by private instructions to the judge, 
 appeared so far, that Cook, though he was not, must be found 
 guilty; and if the law were too short, the judge must stretch it 
 to the purpose. 
 
 The fault laid to his charge was for lending moneys to 
 Queen Margaret, wife to King Henry the Sixth ; the proof 
 was the confession of one Hawkins, who, being racked in the 
 Tower, had confessed so much.* The counsel, or the king, 
 hanging as much weight on the smallest wire as it would hold, 
 aggravated each particular, and by their rhetorical flashes blew 
 the fault up to a great height. Sir Thomas Cook pleaded for 
 himself, that Hawkins indeed upon a season came to him, 
 and requested him to lend one thousand marks upon good 
 security. But he desired first to know for whom the money 
 should be : and, understanding it was for Queen Margaret, 
 denied to lend any money, though at last the said Hawkins 
 descended so low as to require but one hundred pounds, and 
 departed without a penny lent him. 
 
 Judge Markham, in a grave speech, did recapitulate, select, 
 and collate the material points on either side, shewing that 
 theproof reached not the charge of high treason, and misprision 
 of treason was the highest it could amount to ; and intimated 
 to the jury to be tender in matter of life, and discharge good 
 consciences. 
 
 The jury, being wise men, whose apprehensions could make 
 up a whole sentence of every nod of the judge, saw it be- 
 hoved them to draw up treason into as narrow a compass as 
 might be, lest it became their own case ; for they lived in a 
 troublesome world, wherein the cards were so shuflfled, that 
 I two kings were turned up trump at once, which amazed men 
 j how to play their games. Whereupon they acquitted the 
 I prisoner of high treason, and found him guilty, as the judge 
 j directed. 
 
 \et it cost Sir Thomas Cook, before he could get his 
 
222 THE HOLY STATE. 1 
 
 liberty, eight hundred pounds to the queen, and eight thou- ' 
 sand pounds to the king : a sum in that age more sounding 
 like the ransom of a prince than the fine of a subject. Be- 
 sides, the Lord Rivers, the queen's father, had, during his im- 
 prisonment, despoiled his houses, one in the city, another in 
 the country, of plate and furniture, for which he never re- 
 ceived a penny recompense. Yet God righted him of the 
 wrongs men did him, by blessing the remnant of his estate 
 to him and his posterity, who still flourish at Giddy Hall in 
 Essex. 
 
 As for Sir John Markham, the king's displeasure fell so 
 heavy on him, that he was ousted of his place, and Sir 
 Thomas Billing put in his room, though the one lost that office 
 with more honour than the other got it ; and gloried in this, 
 that though the king could make him no judge, he could not 
 make him no upright judge. He lived privately the rest of 
 his days, having besides the estate got by his practice, fair 
 lands by Margaret his wife, daughter and coheir to Sir Simon 
 Leak of Gotham in Notinghamshire, whose mother, Joan, was 
 daughter and heir of Sir John Talbot, of Swaunington in 
 Leicestershire.* 
 
 LXXIV.— The Good Bishop. 
 
 HE is an overseer of a flock of shepherds, as a minister 
 is of a flock of God's sheep. Divine providence and 
 his prince's bounty advanced him to the place, whereof he 
 was no whit ambitious : only he counts it good manners to 
 sit there where God hath placed him, though it be highei 
 than he conceives himself to deserve, and hopes that he whc 
 called him to the oflice hath, or will in some measure fit him 
 for it. 
 
 1. His life in so spotless, that malice is angry with him^ 
 because she cannot be angry with him : because she can find 
 no just cause to accuse him. And as Diogenes confuted 
 him who denied there was any motion, by saying nothing, but 
 walking before his eyes ;t so our bishop takes no notice of 
 the false accusations of people disaffected against his order, ' 
 but walks on circumspectly in his calling, really refelling their 
 
 * Burton's Leicestershire, p. 577. 
 
 t Diog. Laert. lib. 6. p. 212. in Vit. Diogenes. 
 
THE GOOD BISHOP. 223 
 cavils by his conversation. A bishop's bare presence at a 
 marriage in his own diocese, is by the law interpreted for a 
 license; and what actions soever he graceth with his com- 
 pany, he is conceived to privilege them to be lawful, which 
 makes him to be more wary in his behaviour. 
 
 2. With his honour, his holiness and humility doth increase. 
 His great place makes not his piety the less; far be it from 
 him that the glittering of the candlestick should dim the shin- 
 ing of his candle. The meanest minister of God's word may 
 have free access unto him : whosoever brings a good cause 
 brings his own welcome with him. The pious poor may 
 enter in at his wide gates, when not so much as his wicket 
 shall be open to wealthy unworthiness. 
 
 3. He is diligent and faith ful in preaching tlie gospel : 
 either by his pen, Evangelizu manu et scriptione, saith a 
 strict divine ;* or by his vocal sermons (if age and other 
 indispensable occasions hinder him not), teaching the clergy 
 to preach, and the laity to live, according to the anciepft 
 canons.f Object not that it is unfitting he should lie perdue, 
 who is to walk the round, and that governing, as a higher 
 employment, is to silence his preaching : for preaching is a 
 principal part of governing, and Christ himself ruleth his 
 church by his word. Hereby bishops should govern hearts, 
 and make men yield unto them a true and willing obedience, 
 reverencing God in them. Many in consumptions have re- 
 covered their health by returning to their native air wherein 
 they were born. If episcopacy be in any declination or 
 diminution of honour, the going back to the painfulness of 
 the primitive fathers in preaching, is the only way to re- 
 pair it. 
 
 4. Painf ul, pious , and peaceable ministers are his principal 
 favourites. If he meets them in his way (yea he will make 
 It his way to meet them), he bestoweth all grace and lustre 
 upon them. 
 
 5. He is careful that church censures he justly and solemnly 
 inflicted: namely. 
 
 * Reinold. de Idol. Rom. Eccles. Epist. Dedicat. 
 
 t Concil. Toletan. 2. cap. 2. torn. 4. p. 820; Concil. Con- 
 stant. 6. can. 19. torn. 5. p. 328 ; Concil. Aurel. can. 33. p. 723 ; 
 and lately, Concil. Trident, sess. 24. can. 4. 
 
224 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 1 . Admonition, when the church only chidelh, but with 
 the rod in her hand. 
 
 2. Excommunication, the mittimus whereby the male- 
 factor is sent to the gaoler of hell, and delivered to Satan. 
 
 3. Aggravation, whereby for his greater contempt, he is 
 removed out of the gaol into the dungeon. 
 
 4. Penance, which is or should be inward repentance, 
 made visible by open confession, whereby the congregation 
 is satisfied for the public offence given her. 
 
 5. Absolution, which fetcheth the penitent out of hell, 
 and opens the door of heaven for him, which excommu- 
 nication had formerly locked, and aggravation bolted 
 against him. 
 
 As much as lies in his power, he either prevents or cor- 
 rects those too frequent abuses, whereby offenders are not 
 pricked to the heart * but let blood in the purse ; and when 
 the court hath her costs, the church hath no damage given 
 her, nor any reparation for the open scandal she received 
 by the party's offence. Let the memory of worthy Bishop 
 Lake ever survive, whose hand had the true seasoning of a 
 sermon with law and gospel, and who was most fatherly 
 grave in inflicting church censures : such offenders as were 
 unhappy in deserving, were happy in doing penance in his 
 presence. 
 
 6. He is careful and happy in suppressing of heresies and 
 schisms. He distinguisheth of schismatics, as physicians do 
 of leprous people : some are infectious, others not ; f some 
 are active to seduce others, others quietly enjoy their opinions 
 in their own consciences. The latter, by his mildness, he 
 easily reduceth to the truth ; whereas the chirurgeons' rigo- 
 rously handling it, often breaks that bone quite off, which 
 formerly was but out of joint : tov^^ards the former he useth 
 more severity, yet endeavouring first to inform him aright 
 before he punisheth him. To use force first before people 
 are fairly taught the truth, is to knock a nail into a board 
 without wimbling a hole for it, which then either not enters, 
 or turns crooked, or splits the wood it pierceth. 
 
 7. He is very merciful in punishing offenders; both in 
 
 * Acts ii. 37. 
 
 t The leprosy elephantiasis not infectious to the company. 
 
THE GOOD BISHOP. 
 
 226 
 
 matter of life and livelihood, seeing, in St. John's language, 
 the same word Biog,"^ signifies both. He had rather draw 
 tears than blood. It was the honour of the Roman state, as 
 yet being pagan, Li hoc gloriari licet, nulU gentium mitiores 
 plucuisse p(£nas.-\ Yea, for the first seventy years (till the 
 reign of Ancus Martius) they were without a prison. Cle- 
 mency, therefore, in a Christian bishop is more proper. Oh let 
 not ihQ stars of our church be herein turned to comets, whose 
 appearing in place of judicature, presageth to some death 
 or destruction ! I confess that even justice itself is a kind of 
 mercy : but God grant that my portion of mercy be not paid 
 me in that coin. And though the highest detestation of sin 
 bestagreeth with clergymen, yet ought they to cast a severe eye 
 on the vice and example, and a merciful eye on the person. 
 
 8. None more forward to forgive a wrong done to himself. 
 Worthy Archbishop Whitgift interceded to Queen Elizabeth % 
 for remitting of heavy fines laid on some of his adversaries 
 (learning from Christ his master to be a mediator for them), 
 till his importunity had angered the queen, yea, and till his 
 importunity had pleased her again, and gave not over till he 
 got them to be forgiven. 
 
 9. He is very caref ul on whom he layeth hands in ordina- 
 tion ; lest afterwards he hath just cause to beshrew his fin- 
 gers, and with Martianus, a bishop of Constantinople (who 
 made Sabbatias, a Jew and a turbulent man, priest) wish 
 he had then rather laid his hand on the briers,§ than such a 
 man's head. For the sufficiency of scholarship he goeth by 
 his own eye ; but for their honest life, he is guided by other 
 men's hands, which would not so oft deceive him, were tes- 
 timonials a matter of less courtesy and more conscience. For 
 whosoever subscribes them enters into bond to God and the 
 church, under a heavy forfeiture, to avouch the honesty of the 
 party commended ; and, as Judah for Benjamin, they be- 
 come sureties for the young man unto his father. Nor let 
 them think to avoid the bond, and make it but a blank vv^ith 
 the clause, so far forth as we know, or words to the like 
 effect. For what saith the apostle ? God is not mocked. 
 
 * John iii. 17. t Livius, lib. i. p. 20. 
 
 X Cambd. Elizab. in anno 1588, p. 538. 
 § Socrat. Eccles. Hist. lib. 5. cap. 20. 
 
226 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 10. He meddleth as little as may be v)ith temporal matters : 
 liaving little skill in them, and less will to them. Not that 
 he is unworthy to manage them, but they unworthy to be 
 managed by him. Yea, generally the most dexterous in 
 spiritual matters are left-handed in temporal business, and go 
 but untowardly about them. Wherefore our bishop, with 
 reverend Andrews,* meddleth little in civil affairs, being out 
 of his profession and element. Heaven is his vocation, and 
 therefore he counts earthly employments avocations : except 
 in such cases which lie, as I may say, in the marches of 
 divinity, and have connexion with his calling; or else when 
 temporal matters meddle with him, so that he must rid them 
 out of his way. Yet he rather admireth than condemneth 
 such of his brethren who are strengthened with that which 
 would distract him, making the concurrence of spiritual and 
 temporal power in them support one another, and using 
 worldly business as their recreation to heavenly employment. 
 
 11. If called to the court, he there doeth all good offices 
 betwixt prince and people, striving to remove all misprisions 
 and disaffections, and advancing unity and concord. They 
 that think the church may flourish when the commonwealth 
 doth wither, may as well conceive that the brains may be 
 found when pia mater is perished. When, in the way of a 
 confessor, he privately tells his prince of his favilts, he knows, 
 by Nathan's parable, to go the nearest way home by going 
 far about. 
 
 12. He improves his power with his prince for the cliurch's 
 good, in maintaining both true religion and the maintenance 
 thereof; lest some pretending, with pious Hezekiah, to beat 
 down the brazen serpent the occasion of idolatry, do indeed, 
 with sacrilegious Ahaz, take away the brazen bulls from the 
 laver, and set it on a pavement of stone. He jointly ad- 
 vanceth the pains and gains, the work and wages of ministers, 
 which, going together, make a flourishing clergy, with God's 
 blessing, and without man's envy. 
 
 13. His mortified mirid is no whit moved with the magni- 
 fcent vanities of the court. No more than a dead corpse is 
 affected with a velvet hearse-cloth over it. He is so far from 
 wondering at their pomps, that though he looks daily on them. 
 
 * Funeral Sermon on him, p. 19. 
 
THE GOOD BISHOP. 227 
 he scarce sees thenij having his eyes taken up with higher 
 objects; and only admires at such as can admire such low 
 matters. He is loved and feared of all; and his presence 
 frights the swearer either out of his oaths or into silence, and 
 he stains all other men's lives with the clearness of his own. 
 
 14. Yet he daily pruyeth God to keep hiui in so slippery a 
 place. Elisha prayed that a double portion of Elijah's spirit 
 might rest upon him. A father descanteth hereon, that a double 
 portion of grace was necessary for Elisha, who was gracious 
 at court, lived in a plentiful way, and favoured of the kings of 
 Israel ; whereas Elijah lived poorly and privately: and more 
 wisdom is requisite to manage prosperity than affliction. 
 
 15. In his grave writings he aims at God's glory and the 
 church's peace ; with that worthy prelate, the second Jewel of 
 Salisbury, whose comments and controversies will transmit 
 his memory to all posterity : 
 
 Whose dying pen did write of Christian union. 
 
 How church with church might safely keep communion. 
 
 Commend his care, although the cure do miss; 
 
 The woe is ours, the happiness is his : 
 
 Who finding discords daily to increase, 
 
 Because he could not live, would die in peace. 
 
 16. He ever makes honourable mention of foreign protec- 
 tant churches, even when he differs and dissents from them. 
 The worst he wisheth the French church is a protestant king : 
 not giving the left hand of fellowship to them, and reserving 
 his right for some other. Cannot Christ's coat be of different 
 colours, but also it must be of several seams ; railing one on 
 another, till these sisters, by bastardizing one another, make 
 the popish church the sole heir to all truth ? How often did 
 reverend Whitgift,* knowing he had the far better cheer, 
 send a mess of meat from his own table to the ministers of 
 Geneva, relieving many of them by bountiful contributions ? 
 Indeed, English charity to foreign protestant churches, in 
 some respect, is payment of a debt: their children deserve 
 to be our welcome guests, whose grandfathers were our loving 
 hosts in the days of Queen Mary. 
 
 17. He is thankful to that college whence he had his educu- 
 
 * S. G. Paul, in his Life, p. 63, 64. 
 
228 THE HOLY STATE, 
 
 tion. He conceiveth himself to hear his mother-college always 
 speaking to him in the language of Joseph to Pharaob's 
 butler, jB^^^ th 'mk on me, I pray thee, when it shall he well 
 with thee. * If he himself hath but little, the less from him 
 is the more acceptable : a drop from a sponge is as much as 
 a ton of water from a marsh. He bestows on it books, or 
 plate, or lands, or building; and the houses of the prophets 
 rather lack watering than planting, there being enough of 
 them, if they had enough. 
 
 18. He is hospitable in his housekeeping according to his 
 estate. His bounty is ^vith discretion to those that deserve 
 it : charity mistaken, which relieves idle people, like a dead 
 corpse, only feeds the vermin it breeds. The rankness of his 
 housekeeping produceth no riot in his family. St. Paul 
 calls a Christian family well ordered, a church in their house.f 
 If a private man's house be a parochial, a bishop's may seena 
 a cathedral church, as much better as bigger, so decently all 
 things therein are disposed. 
 
 We come now to give a double example of a godly bishop : 
 the first out of the primitive times, the second out of the 
 English church since the Reformation, both excellent in their 
 several ways. 
 
 LXXV. — The Life of St. Augustine. 
 
 AUGUSTINE was born in the city of Tagasta, in Africa, 
 of gentle parentage, Patricius and Monica, though their 
 means bore not proportion to their birth, so that the breeding 
 of their son at learning much weakened their estate, inso- 
 much as Romanian, a noble gentleman (all the world is bound 
 to be thankful to St. Augustine's benefactor), bountifully ad- 
 vanced his education. 
 
 It will be needless to speak of his youth, vicious in manners 
 and erroneous in doctrine, especially seeing he hath so largely 
 accused himself in his con fessions. It is tyranny to trample 
 on him that prostrates himself; and whose sins God hath 
 graciously forgotten, let no man despitefully remember. 
 
 Being made a presbyter in the church of Hippo, this great 
 favour was allowed him, to preach constantly, though in the 
 
 * Gen. xl. 14. t Rom. vi. 5. Theoph. in locum. 
 
LIFE OF ST. AUGUSTINE, 220 
 presence of Valerius the bishop :* whereas in that age to hear 
 a priest preach when that a bishop was in the church, was as 
 great a wonder as the moon shining at midday. Yea, godly 
 Valerius, one that could do better than he could speak, and 
 had a better heart than tongue (being a Grecian, and there- 
 fore not well understood of the Africans), procured Augustine 
 in his lifetime to be designed bishop of Hippo, and to be 
 joined fellow bishop with himself, though it was flatly against 
 the canons. f 
 
 For a coadjutor commonly proves a hinderer, and by his 
 envious clashing, doth often dig his partner's grave with whom 
 he is joined ; besides that such a superinstallation seems an 
 unlawful bigamy, marrying two husbands at the same time 
 to the same church. Yea, St. Augustine himself, afterwards 
 understanding that this was against the constitutions of the 
 church, was sorry thereat, though others thought his eminency 
 above canons, and his deserts his dispensation, and desiring 
 that his ignorance herein should not misguide others, obtained 
 that the canons, then not so hard to be kept as known, be- 
 cause obscure and scattered, were compiled together and 
 published, that the clergy might know what they were bound 
 to observe. 
 
 Being afterwards sole bishop, he was diligent in continual 
 preaching, and beating down of heretics, especially the Mani- 
 cheans, in whose fence-school he was formerly brought up, 
 and therefore knew best how to hit them, and guard himself; 
 also the Pelagians, the duellists against grace, and for freewill, 
 which till St. Augustine's time was never thoroughly sifted, 
 points in divinity being but slenderly fenced, till they are 
 assaulted by heretics. He was also the hammer of the Do- 
 natists, heretics who did scatter more than they did devour, 
 and their schism was more dangerous than their doctrine.|| 
 
 He went not so willingly to a feast as to a conference, to 
 reduce any erroneous persons: once he disputed with Pas- 
 centius, the Arian, who requested that what passed betwixt 
 them might not be written, and afterwards gave out his brags 
 that he had worsted Augustine in the dispute, which report 
 was believed of all who desired it.| 
 
 * Possidonius, in Vit. August, cap. 5. t Idem, cap. 8. 
 
 j| See their tenets at large in a succeeding chapter. 
 t August, torn. 2. ep. 174. 
 
230 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 In other battles, if the conquered side should be so impu- 
 dent as to boast of the victory, it ere long be confuted by 
 the number of their men slain, ensigns and waggons taken, 
 with their flight out of the field. It is not thus in the tongue 
 combats of disputes, wherein no visible wounds are given, 
 and wherein bold men, though inwardly convinced with force 
 of reason, count not themselves conquered till they confess it; 
 50 that in effect none can be overcome except they will them- 
 selves : for some are so shameless that they count not their 
 cause wrecked as long as anything alive comes to the land ; 
 so long as they have breath to talk, though not to answer, and 
 employ their handS; not to untie their adversaries' arguments, 
 but only obstinately to lay hold on their own opinions; yea, 
 after the conference ended, they cry victoria in all companies 
 wherein they come ; whilst their auditors, generally as engaged 
 as the disputants, will succour their champion with partial 
 relations, as the Arians did in this case of Pascentius. 
 
 Rut tlieir false cavils have done the church this true cour- 
 tesy, that ever after St. Augustine set down his disputations 
 in writing, that so the eye of the reader might more steadily 
 behold his arguments presented, fixed in black and white, than 
 when they were only in tiii.ru, as passing in his words. 
 
 His clothes were neither brave nor base, but comely : * as 
 for the black cowl of the Augustinians, which they pretend 
 from his practice, it seemeth ratlier, if so ancient, to be cut 
 with the shears, or by the pattern, of Augustine the monk. 
 He would not receive gifts to the church from those who had 
 poor kindred of their own : divinity saith, that mercy is better 
 than sacnfice ; and tlie law provides, that debts are to be 
 paid before legacies. 
 
 In case of great want he would sell the very ornaments of 
 the church, and bestow the money on the poor, contrary to 
 the opinion of many (the thorn of superstition began very 
 soon to prick) who would not have such things in any case 
 to be alienated. t Sure a communion-table will not catch 
 
 * " Vestis nee nitida nimiiim, nee abjecta plurimiim." — Possi- 
 don. cap. 22. 
 
 t " De vasis Dominicis, propter captives quam pluriraos indi- 
 gentes, frangi et contlari jubebat, et indigentibus dispensari : 
 quod non commemorassem, nisi contra carnalem sensuin quo- 
 rundara fieri perviderem." — Possidon. in Vita Augustine, c. 24. 
 
LIFE OF ST. AUGUSTINE, 231 
 cold with wanting a rich carpet, nor stumble for lack of the 
 candles thereon in silver candlesticks. Besides, the church 
 might afterwards be seasonably replenished with new fur- 
 niture, whereas if the poor were once starved, they could not 
 be revived attain. But let not sacrilege in the disguise of 
 charity make advantage hereof, and covetousness, which is 
 ever hungry till it surfeits, make a constant ordinary on 
 church-bread, because David, in necessity, fed one meal 
 thereon. 
 
 His diet was very cleanly and sparing, yet hospitable in 
 the entertaining of others, and had this distich wrote on his 
 table : 
 
 Quisquis amat dictis ahsentum rodere famamy 
 Hanc mensam indignam novei'it esse sibi. 
 He that doth love on absent friends to jeer, 
 May hence depart, no room is for him here. 
 
 His family was excellently well ordered, and ten of those 
 scholars who were brought up under him, came afterwards 
 to be bishops. 
 
 To come to his death. It happened that the northern 
 countries, called by some. Vagina gentium, the sheath of 
 people,-\ (though more properly they may be termed, Ensis 
 Dei, the sword of God,) sent forth the Vandals, Albans, 
 and Goths, into the southern parts, God punishing the pride 
 of the Roman empire, to be confounded by barbarous enemies. 
 Out of Spain they came into Africa, and massacred all 
 before them. The neighbouring villages, like little children, 
 did fly to Hippo, the mother-city, for succour : thirteen 
 months was Hippo besieged by the Goths, and St. Augustine 
 being therein, prayed to God either to remove the siege, or 
 to give the Christians therein patience to suffer, or to take 
 him out of this miserable world ; which he obtained, and 
 died in the third month of the siege. 
 
 Falling very sick, besides the disease of age and grief, he 
 lay languishing a pretty time, and took order that none 
 should come to him, save when his meat was brought, or 
 physicians visited him, that so he might have elbow-room 
 the more freely to put off the clothes of his mortality. 
 
 t Methodius, Martyr et Paul. Diacon. 
 
232 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 The motion of piety in him (by custom now made natural) 
 was velocior in fine, daily breathing out most pious ejacu- 
 lations. He died intestate, not for lack of time to make a 
 will, but means to bestow ; having formerly passed his soul 
 to God, whilst his body of course bequeathed itself to the 
 earth. As for the books of his own making, a treasure 
 beyond estimation, he carefully consigned them to several 
 libraries. He died in the seventy-sixth year of his age, 
 having lived a bishop almost forty years. Thus a saint of 
 God, like an oak, may be cut down in a moment ; but how 
 many years was he a growing ? Not long after his death, 
 the city of Hippo was sacked by the Goths, it being no 
 wonder if Troy w^as taken, when the Palladium was first 
 fetched away from it. 
 
 LXXVI. — The Life of Bishop Ridley. 
 
 J^ICHOLAS Ridley born in the bishoprick of Durham, 
 but descended from the ancient and worshipful family 
 of the Ridleys of Willimotes-wike in Northumberland. He 
 was brought up in Pembroke Hall in Cambridge, where he 
 so profited in general learning, that he was chosen fellow of 
 the college, and, anno 1533, was proctor of the university. 
 
 At which time two Oxford men, George Tlirogmorton 
 and John Ashwell, came to Cambridge, and in the public 
 schools challenged any to dispute with them on these ques- 
 tions, 
 
 (Ju^ civils sit medicina prasfantius? 
 \Mulier condemnatu, bis ruptis laqueis, sit tertio svs- 
 pendendu ? 
 
 It seems they were men of more brow than brain, being 
 so ambitious to be known, that they had rather be hissed 
 dowm, than not come upon the stage. Sure Oxford afforded 
 as many more able disputants, as civil law yielded more 
 profound and needful questions. Thrograorton had the 
 fortune of daring men, to be worsted, being so pressed by 
 .John Redman and Nicholas Ridley, the opponents, that his 
 second refused at all to dispute.* 
 
 * Cajus, de Antiquit. Cant. Acad. p. 19, 20. 
 
LIFE OF RIDLEY. 233 
 
 Indeed a university is an only fit match for a university ; 
 and any private man who in this nature undertakes a whole 
 body, being of necessity put to the worst, deserves not Phae- 
 ton's epitaph, magnis, but stultis tamen excidit ausis. And 
 though one objects, Neminem Cantabrigiensium constat Ox- 
 onienses unquum ad certamen provucasse yet less learning 
 cannot be inferred from more modesty. The best is, the 
 two sisters so well agree together, that they only contend to 
 surpass each other in mutual kindness, and, forbidding all 
 duels betwixt their children, makeup their joint forces against 
 the common foe of them and true religion. 
 
 He was after chosen master of Pembroke Hall, and kept 
 the same whilst bishop of Rochester and London, till ousted 
 in the first of Queen Mary. Not that he was covetous to 
 hold his place in the college, but the college ambitious to 
 hold him ; as who would willingly part with a jewel ? He 
 was in good esteem with Henry the Eighth, and in better 
 with pious King Edward the Sixth, and was generally beloved 
 of all the court, being one of a handsome person, comely 
 presence, affable speech, and courteous behaviour. 
 
 But before I go further, reader, pardon a digression, and 
 yet is it none, for it is necessary. 1 have within the narrow 
 scantling of my experimental remembrance observed strange 
 alteration in the world's valuing of those learned men who 
 lived in that age ; and take it plainly without welt or guard ; 
 for he that smarts for speaking truth, hath a plaster in his 
 own conscience. 
 
 When I was a child, I was possessed with a reverend esteem 
 of them, as most holy and pious men dying martyrs in the 
 days of Queen Mary, for profession of the truth ; which 
 opinion having from my parents taken quiet possession of 
 my soul, they must be very forcible reasons which eject it. 
 
 Since that time they have been much cried down in the 
 mouths of many, who making a coroner^s inquest upon their 
 death, have found them little better than felons de se, dying 
 in their own blood, for a mere formality, de modo, of the 
 manner of the presence, and a sacrifice in the sacrament, who 
 might easily, with one small distinction, have knocked off 
 their fetters, and saved their lives. By such, the coronet of 
 
 t Brian Twine, p. 336. 
 
234 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 martyrdom is plucked off from their memories ; and others, 
 more moderate, equally part their death betwixt their enemies' 
 cruelty, and their own over-forwardness. 
 
 Since that, one might have expected that these worthy 
 men should have been reinstated in their former honour, 
 whereas the contrary hath come to pass. For some who 
 have an excellent faculty in uncharitable synecdoches, to 
 condemn a life for an action, and taking advantage of some 
 faults in them, do much condemn them : and one lately hath 
 traduced them with such language as neither beseemed his 
 parts, whosoever he was that spake it, nor their piety of 
 whom it was spoken.* If pious Latimer, whose bluntness 
 was incapable of flattery, had his simplicity abused with 
 false informations, he is called another Doctor ShaWy to di- 
 vulge in his sermon forged accmations. Cranmerand Ridley, 
 for some failings, styled, the common stales to countenance 
 with their prostituted gravities every politic fetch which was 
 then on foot, as oft as the potent statists pleased to employ 
 them. And, as it follows not far after, Bishop Cranmer, one 
 of King Henrfs executors, and the other bishops, none refusing 
 (lest they should resist the duke of Northumberland) could 
 find in their consciences to set their hands to the disenabling 
 and defeating of the Princess Mary, k,c.f Where Christian 
 ingenuity might have prompted unto him to have made an 
 intimation, that Cranmer (with pious Justice Hales in Kent) 
 was last and least guilty, much refusing to subscribe ; and 
 his long resisting deserved as well to be mentioned as his 
 yielding at last. Yea, that very verse, which Doctor Smith, 
 at the burning of Ridley, used against him, is by the foresaid 
 author (though not with so full a blow, with a slanting 
 stroke) applied to those martyrs, A man may give his body 
 to be burnt, and yet have not charity. 
 
 Thus the prices of martyrs' ashes rise and fall in Smith- 
 field market. However, their real worth floats not with 
 people's fancies, no more than a rock in the sea rises and 
 falls with the tide. St. Paul is still St. Paul, though the 
 Lycaonians now would sacrifice to him, and presently after 
 would sacrifice him. Those bishops, ministers, and lay- 
 
 * Author of the book lately printed, of " Causes hindering 
 Reformation in England," lib. i. p. 10. t Ibid. p. 11. 
 
LIFE OF RIDLEY. 235 
 people, who were put to death in Queen Mary's days, 
 were worthy saints of God, holy and godly men, but had 
 their faults, failings and imperfections. Had they not been 
 men they had not burned ; yea, had they not been more than 
 men, by God's assistance, they had not burned. Every true 
 Christian should, but none but strong Christians will, die at 
 the stake. 
 
 But to return to Ridley : one of the greatest things objected 
 against him was his counsel to King Edward (which the good 
 prince washed away with his tears) about tolerating the mass 
 for Princess Mary, at the intercession of Charles the Fifth^ 
 emperor, which how great it was, let the indifferent party give 
 judgment, when the historian hath given his evidence, The 
 bishops of Canterbury, London, and Rochester gave their 
 opinion, that to give license to sin, was sin, but to connive at 
 sin might be allowed, in case it were neither too long, nor 
 without hope of reformation* 
 
 Another fault wherewith he was charged, was that woful 
 and unhappy discord betwixt him and reverend Bishop 
 Hooper, about the wearing of some episcopal garments at his 
 consecration, then in use, which Ridley pressed and Hooper 
 refused with equal violence, as being too many, rather loading 
 than gracing him ; and so affectedly grave, that they were 
 light again. All we will say is this, that when worthy men 
 fall out, only one of them may be faulty at the first, but if such 
 strifes continue long, commonly both become guilty : but 
 thus God's diamonds often cut one another, and good men 
 cause afflictions to good men. 
 
 It was the policy of the Lacedemonians always to send two 
 ambassadors together,t who disagreed amongst themselves, 
 that so mutually they might have an eye on the actions each 
 of other. Sure I am that in those ambassadors, the ministers 
 whom God sendeth to men, God suffereth great discords be- 
 twixt them (Paul with Barnabas, Jerome with Ruffin and 
 Augustine, and the like), perchance because each may be more 
 cautious and wary of his behaviour in the view of the other. 
 We may well behold men's weakness in such dissensions, but 
 better admire God's strength and wisdom in ordering them to 
 
 • Havward's Edward VL p. 291. 
 t Arist. Polit. lib. 2. cap. 7. 
 
236 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 his glory, and his children's good. Sure it is, Ridley and 
 Hooper were afterwards cordially reconciled ; and let not their 
 discords pierce farther than their reconciliation. The worst 
 is, men's eyes are never made sound with the clearness, but 
 often are made sore with the blearness of other men's eyes in 
 their company. The virtues of saints are not so attractive of 
 our imitation, as their vices and infirmities are prone to infect. 
 
 Ridley was very gracious with King Edward the Sixth,* 
 and by a sermon he preached before him, so wrought upon 
 his pious disposition, whose princely charity rather wanted a 
 director than a persuader, that the king, at his motion, gave 
 to the city of London, 
 
 1. Grayfriars, now called Christ Church, for impotent, 
 fatherless, decrepid people by age or nature, to be edu- 
 cated or maintained. 
 
 2. St. Bartholomew's, near Smithfield, for poor by faculty, 
 as wounded soldiers, diseased and sick persons, to be 
 cured and relieved. 
 
 3. Bridewell, the ancient mansion of the Enghsh kings, 
 for the poor by idleness or unthriftiness, as riotous 
 spenders, vagabonds, loiterers, strumpets, to be corrected 
 and reduced to good order. 
 
 I like that emblem of charity, which one hath expressed 
 in a naked child, giving honey to a bee without wings ;f only 
 I would have one thing added, namely, holding a whip in the 
 other hand to drive away the drones : so that King Edward's 
 bounty was herein perfect and complete. 
 
 To return to Ridley: his whole life was a letter written 
 full of learning and religion, whereof his death was the seal. 
 Brought he was with Cranmer and Latimer to Oxford, to 
 dispute in the days of Queen Mary, though before a syllo- 
 gism was formed their deaths were concluded on, and, as 
 afterwards came to pass, being burnt the 16th of October, 
 anno 1555, in the ditch over against Baliol College. 
 
 He came to the stake in a fair black gown, furred and 
 faced with foins ; a tippet of velvet, furred likewise about his 
 neck ; a velvet nightcap upon his head, and a cornered cap 
 upon the same.;}: 
 
 * Hayward, Edward VL p. 407, et sequent. 
 
 t Fr. Quarles Encbirid. p. 1. 
 
 X Fox, Acts and Moa. an. 1555, Octob. 
 
LIFE OF RIDLEY. 237 
 Doctor Smith preached a sermon at their burning; a sermon 
 which had nothing good in it but the text (though misapplied) 
 and the shortness, being not above a quarter of an hour long. 
 Old Hugh Latimer was Ridley's partner at the stake, some- 
 time bishop of Worcester, who crawled thither after him; 
 one who had lost more learning than many ever had, who 
 flout at his plain sermons ; though his downright style was 
 as necessary in that ignorant age, as it would be ridiculous 
 in ours. Indeed he condescended to people's capacity ; and 
 many men unjustly count those low in learning, who indeed 
 do but stoop to their auditors. Let me see any of our sharp 
 wits do that with the edge, which his bluntness did with the 
 back of the knife, and persuade so many to restitution of ill- 
 gotten goods. Though he came after Ridley to the stake, he 
 got before him to heaven : his body, made tinder by age, was 
 no sooner touched by the fire, but instantly this old Simeon . 
 had his Nunc dmuttis, and brought the news to heaven that 
 his brother was following after. 
 
 But Ridley suffered with far more pain, the fire about him 
 being not well made : and yet one would think that age should 
 be skilful in making such bonfires, as being much practised 
 in them. The gunpowder that was given him, did him little 
 service, and his brother-in-law, out of desire to rid him out of 
 pain, increased it (great grief will not give men leave to be 
 wise with it), heaping fuel upon him to no purpose ; so that 
 neither the fagots which his enemies' anger nor his brother's 
 good will cast upon him, made the fire to burn kindly. 
 
 In like manner, not much before, his dear friend, Master 
 Hooper, suffered with great torment ;f the wind, which too 
 often is the bellows of great fires, blowing it away from him 
 once or twice. Of all the martyrs in those days, these two 
 endured most pain, it being true that each of them, 
 
 Qu(crehat in ignibus ignes : 
 And still he did desire. 
 For fire in midst of fire. 
 
 Both desiring to burn, and yet both their upper parts were 
 but confessors, when their lower parts were martyrs, and burnt 
 to ashes. Thus God, where he hath given the stronger faith, he 
 
 t See Fox's Acts and Mon. on Hooper's Death. 
 
238 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 layeth on the stronger pain. And so we leave them going 
 
 up to heaven, like Elijah, in a chariot of fire. 
 
 LXXVII. — The True Nobleman. 
 
 HE is a gentleman in a text letter, because bred and living 
 in a higher and larger way. Conceive him, when 
 young, brought up at school, in ludo literario, where he did 
 not take Indus to himself, and leave literariiis to others, but 
 seriously applied himself to learning, and afterwards coming 
 to his estate thus behaves himself. 
 
 1 . G ood u ess sa n ctijies h is great it ess, and grea tness supports 
 his goodness. He improves the upper ground whereon he 
 stands, thereby to do God the more glorv'. 
 
 2. He counts not care for- his countjy's good to be beneath 
 his state. Because he is a great pillar, shall he therefore 
 bear the less weight, never meddling with matters of justice ? 
 Can this be counted too low for a lord, which is high enough 
 for a king ? Our nobleman freely serves his country, counting 
 his very work a sufficient reward. (As by our laws no duke, 
 earl, baron, or baronet, though justices of peace, may take 
 any wages at the sessions.*) Yea, he detesteth all gainful 
 ways, which have the least blush of dishonour : for the mer- 
 chant nobility of Florence and Venice, how highly soever 
 valued by themselves, pass in other countries with loss and 
 abatement of repute ; as if the scarlet robes of their honour 
 had a stain of the stamel dye in them. 
 
 3. He is careful in the thrifty managing of his estate. 
 Gold, though tlie most solid and heavy of metals, yet may 
 be beaten out so thin as to be the lightest and slightest of all 
 things. Thus nobility, though in itself most honourable, may 
 be so attenuated through the smallness of means, as thereby 
 to grow neglected, which makes our nobleman to practise 
 Solomon's precept, Be diligent to know the state of thy Jiocks^ 
 and look well to thine herds ; for the croicn doth not endure 
 to every generation. i If not the croxcn, much less the coronet ; 
 and sood husbandry may as well stand with great honour, as 
 breadth may consist with l.eight. 
 
 * Statute 14. of Ric. II. c. 11. t Prov. xxvii. 23. 
 
TRUE NOBLEMAN. 239 
 
 4. Jj'a u-cuk estate be left him by his ancestors, he seeks to 
 repair it, by thrifty ways, yet noble : as by travelling, sparing 
 abroad, till his state at home may outgrow debts and pensions : 
 hereby he gains experience, and saves expense, sometimes 
 living private, sometimes shewing himself at a half light, and 
 sometimes appearing like himself as occasion requires ; or 
 else by betaking himself to the wars : war cannot but in thank- 
 fulness grace him with an office, which graceth her with his 
 person ; or else by warlike sea-adventures wisely undertaken, 
 and providently managed ; otherwise, this course hath emp- 
 tied more full, than filled empty purses, and many thereby 
 have brought a galleon to a galley ; or lastly, by match with 
 wealthy heirs, wherein he is never so attentive to his profit, 
 but he listens also to his honour. 
 
 5. In proportion to his means he keeps a liberal house. 
 This much takes the affections of country people, whose love 
 is much warmed in a good kitchen, and turneth much on tiie 
 hinges of a buttery-door often open. Francis Russell, second 
 earl of Bedford of that surname, was so bountiful to the 
 poor that Queen Elizabeth would merrily complain of him, 
 that he made all the beggars ; sure it is more honourable for 
 noblemen to make beggars by their liberality, than by their 
 oppression. But our nobleman is especially careful to see 
 all things discharged which he taketh up. When the corpse 
 of Thomas Howard, second duke of Norfolk, was carried to 
 be interred in the abbey of Thetford, anno 1524, no person 
 could demand of him one groat for debt, or restitution for 
 any injury done by him.* 
 
 6. His servants are best kriown by the coat and cognizance 
 of their civil behaviour. He will not entertain such ruffian- 
 like men who know so well who is their master, that they 
 know not who they are themselves, and think their lord's re- 
 ference is their innocence, to bear them out in all unlawful 
 actions. But our lord's house is the college wherein the 
 children of the neighbouring gentry and yeomanry are bred, 
 and there taught, by serving of him, to rule themselves. 
 
 7. He huteth all oppression of his tenants and neighbours ; 
 disdaining to crush a mean gentleman for a meaner offence ; 
 and counts it no conquest, but an execution from him who. 
 
 * Weaver's Fun. Mon. p. 839. 
 
240 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 on his side, hath the odds of height of place, strength of arm, 
 and length of weapon. But as the proverb saith, No grass 
 gl ows ichere the grand seignior s horse sets his feet ; so too 
 often nothing but grass grows where some great men set their 
 footing ; no towns or tillage, for all must be turned into depo- 
 pulating pastures, and commons into enclosures. Nigh the 
 city of Lunenberg in Germany, flowed a plentiful salt spring, 
 till such time as the rich men, engrossing all the profit to 
 themselves, would not suffer the poor to make any salt 
 thereof ; whereupon God and nature being offended at their 
 covetousness, the spring ceased, and ran no more for a time.* 
 Thus hath God's punishment overtaken many great men, 
 and stopped his blessing towards them, which formerly flowed 
 plentifully unto them, for that they have wronged poor people 
 of their commonage, which of right belonged unto them. 
 
 8. In his own pleasures he is careful of his neighbour s profit. 
 Though his horses cannot have wings like his hawks, to spoil 
 no grass or grain as he passeth, yet he is very careful to make 
 as little waste as possible may be : his horses shall not trample 
 on loaves of bread as he hunteth, so that whilst he seeks to 
 gather a twig for himself, he breaks the staff of the common- 
 wealth. 
 
 9. All the country are his retainers in love and observance. 
 When they come to wait on him, they leave not their hearts 
 at home behind them, but come willingly to tender their 
 respects. The holding up of his hand is as good as the dis- 
 playing of a banner ; thousands will flock to him, but it must 
 be for the king's and country's service. For he knows that 
 he who is more than a lord, if his cause be loyal, is less 
 than a private man, if it be otherwise : wath St. Paul, can 
 do nothing against the truth, but for the truth.-f Thus Queen 
 Ehzabeth christened the youngest daughter of Gilbert Talbot, 
 earl of Shrewsbury, now countess of Arundel, Aletheia, Truth, 
 out of true consideration and judgment, that the house of the 
 Talbots was ever loyal to thecrown.| 
 
 10. Some privileges of noblemen he endeavours to deserve; 
 
 * Morrison's Travels, ch:ip. 1. part i. p. 5. Yet afterward, 
 upon veadmissioii of the poor to il, it ran again, 
 t 2 Cor. xiii. 8. 
 
 X Vincent's Discov. of Brooks' Errors, p. 470. 
 
TRUE NOBLEMAN. 241 
 namely, such privileges as are completely noble, that so his 
 merits as well as the law should allow them unto him. He 
 conceives this word, 07i mine honour, wraps up a great deal in 
 it ; which unfolded and then measured, will be found to be 
 a large attestation, and no less than an elliptical oath, calling 
 God to witness, who hath bestowed that honour upon him. 
 And seeing the state is so tender of him, that he shall not be 
 forced to swear in matters of moment in courts of justice, he 
 is careful not to swear of his own accord in his sports and 
 pleasures. Other privileges of noblemen he labours not lo 
 have need of, namely, such as presuppose a fault, are but 
 honourable penalties, and excuse from shameful punishments. 
 Tlius he is not to be hound to the peace.'^ And what needs 
 he, who hath the peace always bound to him, being of his 
 own accord always careful to preserve it, and of so noble a 
 disposition he will never be engaged in any brawls or con- 
 tentions? 
 
 To give an instance of such a nobleman seems to be need- 
 less, hoping that at this time, in one city of this realm, and 
 in one room of that city, many such noblemen are to be found 
 together. 
 
 LXXVllI.— The Court Lady. 
 
 TO describe a holy state without a virtuous lady dierein, 
 were to paint out a year without a spring : we come 
 therefore to her character. 
 
 1. She sets not her face so often hy her glass, as she com- 
 poseth her soul by God's word. Which hath all the excellent 
 qualities of a glass indeed. 
 
 1. It is clear: in all points necessary' to salvation, ex- 
 cept to such whose eyes are blinded. 
 
 2. It is true : not like those false glasses some ladies 
 dress themselves by. And how common is flattery at court, 
 when even glasses have learnt to be parasites ! 
 
 3. It is large ; presenting all spots cap-a-pie, behind and 
 before, within and without. 
 
 4. It is durable : though in one sense it is broken too 
 often, when God's laws are neglected ; yet it will last to 
 
 * Lamb, Justice of Peace, p. 83. 
 R 
 
242 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 break them that break it, and one tittle thereof shall not 
 Jail to the ground. 
 
 5. This glass hath power to smooth the wrinkles, cleanse 
 the spots, and mend the faults it discovers. 
 
 2. She walks humbly before God in all religious duties. 
 Humbly : for she well knows that the strongest Christian is 
 like the city of Rome, which was never besieged but it was 
 taken ; and the best saint, without God's assistance, would 
 be as often foiled as tempted. She is most constant and 
 diligent at her hours of private prayer. Queen Katharine, 
 dowager, never kneeled on a cushion when she was at her de- 
 votions.* This matters not at all ; our lady is more careful 
 of her heart than of her knees, that her soul be settled aright. 
 
 3. She is careful and most tender of her credit and reputa- 
 tion. There is a tree in Mexicana, which is so exceedingly 
 tender, that a man cannot touch any of its branches, but it 
 withers presently.f A lady's credit is of equal niceness, a 
 small touch may wound and kill it ; which makes her very 
 cautious what company she keeps. The Latin tongue seems 
 somewhat injurious to the feminine sex ; for whereas therein 
 amicus is a friend, arnica always signifies a sweetheart ; as 
 if their sex, in reference to men, were not capable of any 
 other kind of familiar friendship, but in way to marriage : 
 which makes our lady avoid all privacy with suspicious com- 
 pany. 
 
 4. Yet is she not more careful of her own credit than of 
 God's glory ; and stands up valiantly in the defence thereof. 
 She hath read how, at the coronation of King Richard the 
 Second, Dame Margaret Dimock, wife to Sir John Di- 
 mock, came into the court, and claimed the place to be the 
 king's champion, J by the virtue of the tenure of her manor 
 of Scrinelby in Lincolnshire, to challenge and defy all such 
 as opposed the king's right to the crown. But if our lady hears 
 any speaking disgracefully of God or religion, she counts her- 
 self bound by her tenure (whereby she holds possession of 
 grace here, and reversion of glory hereafter) to assert and 
 
 * Sanders, de Schism. Anglic, lib. i. p. 5. 
 + Doctor Heylen's Microcos. p. 783. 
 
 t She claimed the place, but her husband performed the office. 
 Leland's Colle. tit. i. p. 299. 
 
THE COURT LADY. 243 
 vindicate the honour of the King of heaven, whose cham- 
 pion she professeth to be. One may be a lamb in private 
 wrongs, but in hearing general affronts to goodness, they are 
 asses who are not lions. 
 
 5. She is pitiful and bountiful to people in distress. We 
 read how a daughter of the duke of Exeter invented a brake, 
 or cruel rack, to torment people withal ; to which purpose it 
 was long reserved, and often used in the Tower of London, 
 and commonly called (was it not fit so pretty a babe should 
 bear her mother's name?) the Duke of Exeter's Daughter.* 
 Methinks the finding out of a salve to ease poor people in pain, 
 had borne better proportion to her ladyship, than to have 
 been the inventor of instruments of cruelty. 
 
 6. She is a good scholar, and well learned in useful authors. 
 Indeed, as in purchases, a house is valued at nothing, because 
 it returneth no profit, and requires great charges to maintain 
 it; so, for the same reasons, learning in a woman is but 
 little to be prized. But as for great ladies, who ought to be 
 a confluence of all rarities and perfections, some learning in 
 them is not only useful, but necessary. 
 
 7. In discourse, her words are rather fit than fine, very 
 choice and yet not chosen. Though her language be not gaudy, 
 yet the plamness thereof pleaseth ; it is so proper, and hand- 
 somely put on. Some, having a set of fine phrases, will 
 hazard an impertinency to use them all, as thinking they give 
 full satisfaction for dragging in the matter by head and 
 shoulders, if they dress it in quaint expressions. Others often 
 repeat the same things : the Platonic year of their discourses 
 being not above three days long, in which term all the same 
 matter returns over again, threadbare talk ill suiting with the 
 variety of their clothes. 
 
 8. She affects not the vanity of foolish fashions ; but is 
 decently apparelled according to her state and condition. 
 He that should have guessed the bigness of Alexander's sol- 
 diers by their shields left in India, would much over-pro- 
 portion their true greatness. But what a vast overgrown 
 creature would some guess a woman to be, taking his aim by 
 the multitude and variety of clothes and ornaments which 
 some of them use : insomuch as the ancient Lathis called a 
 
 * Vide Stow's Cliron. in the reign of King Edward the Fourth. 
 
244 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 woman's wardrobe, miindm, a world: wherein, notwith- 
 standing, was much terra incognita then undiscovered, but 
 since found out by the curiosity of modem fashion-mongers. 
 We find a map of this world drawn by God's Spirit, (Isaiah 
 iii.) wherein oiie-and-twenly women's ornaments, all super- 
 fluous, are reckoned up, which at this day are much increased. 
 The moons,^ there mentioned, which they wore on their heads, 
 may seem since grown to the full in the luxury of after ages. 
 
 9. She is contented with that beauti/ ivhich God hath given 
 her. If very handsome, no whit the more proud, but far the 
 more thankful : if unhandsome, she labours to better it in the 
 virtues of her mind ; that what is but plain cloth without, 
 may be rich plush wathin. Indeed such natural defects as 
 hinder her comfortable serving of God in her calling, may be 
 amended by art ; and any member of the body being defective, 
 may thereby be lawfully supplied. Thus glass eyes may be 
 used, though not for seeing, for sightliness. But our lady 
 detesteth all adulterate complexions, finding no precedent 
 thereof in the Bible, save one, and her so bad, that ladies 
 would blush, through their paint, to make her the pattern of 
 their imitation. Yet are there many that think the grossest 
 fault in painting is to paint grossly (making their faces with 
 thick daubing, not only new pictures but new statues) and 
 that the greatest sin therein, is to be discovered. 
 
 10. Li her marriage she principally respects virtue and re- 
 ligion ; and next that, other accommodations, as we have 
 formerly discoursed off And she is careful, in match, not 
 to bestow herself unworthily beneath her own degree to an 
 ignoble person, except in case of necessity. Thus the gentle- 
 women in Champaigne, in France, some three hundred years 
 since, were enforced to marry yeomen and farmers, because 
 all the nobility in that country were slain in the wars, in the 
 two voyages of King Lewis to Palestine : and thereupon ever 
 since, by custom and privilege, the gentlewomen of Cham- 
 paigne and Brye ennoble their husbands, and give them 
 honour in marrying them, how mean soever before .| 
 
 11. Though pleasant ly afftcted, she is not transported with 
 court delights ; as in their stately masks and pageants. Seeing 
 
 * Isaiah iii. 18. + Vide chap, of Marriage. 
 
 J Andr. Favin, in his Theatre of Honour, book i. chap. 6. 
 
THE COURT LADY. 245 
 princes' cares are deeper than the cares of private men, it is 
 fit their recreations also should be greater, that so their mirth 
 may reach the bottom of their sadness : yea, God allows to 
 princes a greater latitude of pleasure. He is no friend to 
 the tree, that strips it of the bark ; neither do they mean well 
 to majesty, who would deprive it of outward shows, and 
 state solemnities, which the servants of princes may in loyalty 
 and respect present to their sovereign ; however, our lady, by 
 degrees, is brought from delighting in such masks, only to be 
 contented to see them, and at last, perchance, could desire to 
 be excused from that also. 
 
 12. Yet in her reduced thoughts she makes all the sport she 
 hath seen, earnest to herself. It must be a dry flower indeed 
 out of which this bee sucks no honey : they are the best Origens 
 who do allegorize all earthly vanities into heavenly truths. 
 When she remembereth how suddenly the scene in the mask 
 was altered (almost before momeut itself could take notice of 
 it), she considereth how quickly mutable all things are in this 
 world, God ringing the changes on all accidents, and making 
 them tuneable to his glory. The lively representing of things 
 so curiously, that nature herself might grow jealous of art, 
 in outdoing her, minds our lady to make sure work with her 
 own soul, seeing hypocrisy may be so like to sincerity. But, 
 oh, what a wealthy exchequer of beauties did she there behold; 
 several faces most different, most excellent, so great is the 
 variety even in beasts; what a rich mine of jewels above 
 ground, all so brave, so costly ! To give court masks their due, 
 of all the bubbles in this world, they have the greatest variety 
 of fine colours. But all is quickly ended ; this is the spite of 
 the world : if ever she affordeth fine wave, she always pincheth 
 it in the measure, and it lasts not long. But oh, thinks our 
 lady, how glorious a place is heaven, where there arejoys for 
 evermore ! If a herd of kine should meet together to fancy 
 and define happiness, they would place it to consist in fine 
 pastures, sweet grass, clear water, shadowy groves, constant 
 summer ; but if any winter, then warm shelter and dainty hay, 
 with company after their kind, counting these low things the 
 highest happiness, because their conceit can reach no higher. 
 Little better do the heathen poets describe heaven, paving it 
 with pearl, and roofing it with stars, fillmg it with gods and 
 goddesses, and allowing them to drink (as if wathout it no 
 
246 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 poets' paradise) nectar and ambrosia; heaven indeed being 
 po€taru?n dedecus, the shame of poets, and the disgrace of all 
 their hyperboles, falling as far short of truth herein, as they 
 go beyond it in other fables. However, the sight of such 
 glorious earthly spectacles advantageth our lady's conceit, by 
 infinite multiplication thereof, to consider of heaven. 
 
 13. She reads constant lectures to herself of her own mor- 
 tality. To smell to a turf of fresh earth is wholesome for the 
 body ; no less are thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul. 
 Earth thou art, to earth thou shalt return. The sight of 
 death when it cometh will neither be so terrible to her, nor so 
 strange, who hath formerly often beheld it in her serious me- 
 ditations. With Job she saith to the worm. Thou art my 
 sister : * if fair ladies scorn to own the worms their kindred in 
 this life, their kindred will be bold to challenge them, when 
 dead, in their graves ; for when the soul, the best perfume of 
 the body is departed from it, it becomes so noisome a carcase, 
 that should I make a description of the loathsomeness thereof, 
 some dainty dames would hold their noses in reading it. 
 
 To conclude : we read how Henry, a German prince, was 
 admonished by revelation to search for a writing in an old 
 wall, which should nearly concern him, wherein he found 
 only these two w^ords written, "Post Sex, After Six."f 
 Whereupon Henry conceived that his death was foretold, 
 which after six days should ensue, which made him pass 
 those days in constant preparation for the same. But finding 
 the six days past without the effect he expected, he succes- 
 sively persevered in his godly resolutions six weeks, six 
 months, six years, and on the first day of the seventh year 
 the prophecy was fulfilled, though otherwise than he inter- 
 preted it ; for thereupon he was chosen emperor of Germany, 
 having before gotten such a habit of piety, that he persisted 
 in his religious course for ever after. Thus our lady hath so 
 inured herself, all the days of her appointed time to wait till 
 her change cometh, that, expecting it every hour, she is always 
 provided for that, than which nothing is more certain or un- 
 certain. 
 
 * Job xvii. 14. 
 
 t Surius, in Vita Sancti Heur. July 14 ; et Baronius, in anno 
 1007. 
 
247 
 
 LXXIX. — The Life of Lady JA^E Grey. 
 
 JANE Grey, eldest daughter of Henry Grey, marquis of 
 Dorset and duke of Suffolk, by Frances Brandon, eldest 
 daughter of Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, and Mary his 
 wife, youngest daughter to King Henry the Seventh, was by 
 her parents bred according to her high birth, in religion and 
 learning. They were no whit indulgent to her in her child- 
 hood, but extremely severe, more than needed to so sweet a 
 temper ; for what need iron instruments to bow wax ? 
 
 But as the sharpest winters (correcting the rankness of the 
 earth) cause the more healthful and fruitful summers : so the 
 harshness of her breeding, compacted her soul to the greater 
 patience and piety, so that afterwards she proved the mirror of 
 her age, and attained to be an excellent scholar through the 
 teaching of Mr. Elmer, her master. 
 
 Once Mr. Roger Ascham, coming to wait on her at Broad- 
 gates, in Leicestershire, found her in her chamber reading 
 Phaedon Platonis, in Greek,* with as much delight as some 
 gentlemen would have read a merry tale in Boccace, whilst 
 the duke, her father, with the duchess, and all their household, 
 were hunting in the park. He asked of her, how she could 
 lose such pastime ? who, smiling, answered, I wist all the 
 sport in the pai^k is but the shadow of what pleasure I find m 
 this book ; adding, moreover, that one of the greatest blessings 
 God ever gave her, was in sending her sharp parents and a 
 gentle schoolmaster, which made her take delight in nothing 
 so much as in her studies. 
 
 About this time, John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, 
 projected for the English crown : but, being too low to reach 
 it in his own person, having no advantage of royal birth, a 
 match was made betwixt Guildford, his fourth son, and this 
 Lady J ane : the duke hoping so to reign in his daughter-in- 
 law, on whom King Edward the Sixth, by will, passing by 
 his own sisters, had entailed the crown : and not long after, 
 that godly king, who had some defects, but few faults (and 
 those rather in his age than person), came to his grave ; it 
 being uncertain whether he went or was sent thither. If 
 
 * Ascham s Schoolmaster, lib. 1. fol. 10. 
 
248 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 the latter be true, the crying of this saint under the altar, 
 beneath which he was buried in King Henry's chapel (without 
 any other monument than that of his own virtues), hath 
 been heard long since for avenging his blood. 
 
 Presently after (in 1 553) Lady Jane was proclaimed Queen 
 of England. She lifted not up her least finger to put the 
 diadem on herself, but was only contented to sit still, whilst 
 others endeavoured to crown her ; or rather was so far from 
 biting at the bait of sovereignty, that unwillingly she opened- 
 her mouth to receive it. 
 
 Then was the duke of Northumberland made general of 
 an army, and sent into Suffolk to suppress the Lady Mary, 
 who there gathered men to claim the crown. This duke was 
 appointed out of the policy of his friend-seeming enemies for 
 that employment : for those who, before, could not endure 
 the scorchmg heat of his displeasure at the council table, 
 durst afterwards oppose him, having gotten the screen of 
 London walls betwixt him and them. They also stinted his 
 journeys every day (thereby appointing the steps by which he 
 was to go down to his own grave), that he should march on 
 very slowly, which caused his confusion. For lingering doth 
 tire out treacherous designs, which are to be done all on a 
 sudden, and gives breath to loyalty to recover itself. 
 
 His army, like a sheep, left part of its fleece on every 
 bush it came by ; at every stage and corner some conveying 
 themselves from him, till his soldiers were washed away 
 before any storm of war fell upon them. Only some few, 
 who were chained to the duke by their particular engage- 
 ments, and some great persons hopeless to conceal themselves, 
 as being too big for a cover, stuck fast unto him. Thus 
 those enterprizes need a strong hand which are thrown against 
 the bias of people's hearts and consciences. And not long 
 after, the Norfolk and Suffolk protestant gentry (loyalty 
 always lodgeth in the same breast with true religion), pro- 
 claimed and set up Queen Mary, who got the crown by Our 
 Father, and held it by Paternoster. 
 
 Then was the late queen, now Lady Jane Grey, brought 
 from a queen to a prisoner, and committed to the Tower. She 
 made misery itself amiable by her pious and patient beha- 
 viour : adversity, her night-clothes, becoming her as well as 
 her day-dressing, by reason of her pious deportment. 
 
 During her imprisonment, many moved her to alter her 
 
LIFE OF JANE GREY. 249 
 religion, and especially Mr. Fecnam, sent unto her by Queen 
 Mary : but how wisely and religiously she answered him, 
 I refer the reader to Mr. Fox, where it is largely recorded.* 
 And because I have mentioned that book, wherein this 
 lady's virtues are so highly commended, I am not ignorant 
 that, of late, great disgrace hath been thrown on that author 
 and his worthy work, as being guilty of much falsehood : 
 chiefly, because sometimes he makes popish doctors, well 
 known to be rich in learning, to reason very poorly ; and the 
 best fencers of their schools worsted and put out of their 
 play by some country poor protestants. But let the cavillers 
 hereat know, that it is a great matter to have the odds of the 
 weapon, God's word, on their side ; not to say anything of 
 supernatural assistance given them. Sure, for the main, his 
 book is a worthy work (wherein the reader may rather leave 
 than lack), and seems to me, like iEtna, always burning, 
 whilst the smoke hath almost put out the eyes of the adverse 
 party ; and these for es' firebrands have brought much annoy- 
 ance to the Romish PhiHstines. But it were a miracle if in 
 so voluminous a work, there were nothing to be justly re- 
 proved ; so great a pomegranate not having any rotten kernel, 
 must only grow in paradise. And though, perchance, he 
 held the beam at the best advantage for the protestant party 
 to weigh down, yet, generally, he is a true writer, and never 
 wilfully deceiveth, though he may sometimes be unwiUingly 
 deceived. 
 
 To return to the Lady Jane : though Queen Mary, of her 
 own disposition, was inclined finally to pardon her, yet ne- 
 cessity of state was such, as she must be put to death. Some 
 report her to have been with child when she was beheaded 
 (cruelty to cut down the tree with blossoms on it), and that 
 that which hath saved the life of many women, hastened her 
 death ; but God only knows the truth hereof. On Tower 
 Hill (February 12th, 1553,) she most patiently, Christianly, 
 and constantly yielded to God her soul, which by a bad way 
 went to the best end. On whom the foresaid author (whence 
 the rest of her life may be supplied) bestows these verses : — 
 
 Nescio tu quihus es, lector^ lecturus ocellis : 
 Hoc sciu, quod siccis scribere non potui. 
 
 * Acts and Monumen. p. 1419, et deinceps. 
 
250 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 What eyes thou read'st with, reader, know I not : 
 Mine were not dry, when I this story wrote. 
 
 She had the innocency of childhood, the beauty of youth, 
 the sohdity of middle, the gravity of old age, and all at 
 eighteen : the birth of a princess, the learning of a clerk, the 
 life of a saint, yet the death of a malefactor, for her parents' 
 offences. I confess I never read of any canonized saint of 
 her name, a thing wliereof some papists are so scrupulous, 
 that they count it an unclean and unhallowed thing to be of 
 a name whereof never any saint was : which made that great 
 Jesuit, Arthur Faunt, as his kinsman tells us, change his; 
 Christian name to Laurence.* But let this worthy lady pass 
 for a saint; and let all great ladies, who bear her name, 
 imitate her virtues, to whom I wish her inward holiness, but 
 far more outward happiness. 
 
 Yet, lest goodness should be discouraged by this lady's 
 infelicity, we will produce another example, which shall be 
 of a fortunate virtue. , 
 
 LXXX. — The Life of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 "^TT'E intermeddle not with her description as she was a 
 ' » sovereign prince, too high for our pen, and performed 
 by others already, though not by any done so fully but that still 
 room is left for the endeavours of posterity to add thereunto. 
 We consider her only as she was a worthy lady, her private 
 virtues rendering her to the imitation, and her public to the 
 admiration of all. 
 
 Her royal birth by her father's side doth comparatively 
 make her mother-descent seem low, which otherwise, con- 
 sidered in itself, was very noble and honourable. As for the 
 bundle of scandalous aspersions by some cast on her birth, 
 they are best to be buried without once opening of them.f 
 For as the basest rascal will presume to miscall the best 
 lord, when far enough out of his hearing, so slanderous 
 tongues think they may run riot in railing on any, when once 
 got out of the distance of time, and reach of confutation. 
 
 * Burton, of Leicestershire, p. 1 05. 
 
 t See these slanders plainly confuted in Anti-Sander. Dialog. 
 2. p. 125, et deinceps. 
 
LIFE OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 251 
 But majesty, which dieth not, will not suffer itself to be 
 so abused, seeing the best assurance which living princes 
 have that their memories shall be honourably continued, is 
 founded (next to their own deserts) in the maintaining of 
 the unstained reputation of their predecessors. Yea, divine 
 justice seems herein to be a compurgator of the parents of 
 Queen Elizabeth ; in that Nicholas Sanders, a popish priest, 
 the first raiser of these wicked reports, was accidentally 
 famished as he roved up and down in Ireland; either because 
 it was just he should be starved, that formerly surfeited with 
 lying, or because that island, out of a natural antipathy against 
 poisonous creatures, would not lend life to so venomous a 
 slanderer. 
 
 Under the reign of her father, and brother. King Edward 
 the Sixth (who commonly called her his Sister Temperance), 
 she lived in a princely fashion. But the case was altered 
 with her when her sister Mary came to the crown, who ever 
 looked upon her with a jealous eye and frowning face, 
 chiefly because of the difference betwixt them in religion. 
 For though Queen Mary is said of herself not so much as to 
 have barked, yet she had under her those who did more than 
 bite, and rather her religion than disposition was guilty in 
 countenancing their cruelty by her authority. 
 
 This antipathy against her sister Elizabeth was increased 
 with the remembrance how Katharine, do%vager. Queen Mary's 
 mother, was jostled out of the bed of Henry the Eighth by 
 Anna Bullen, mother to Queen Ehzabeth; so that these two 
 sisters were born, as I may say, not only in several, but oppo- 
 site horizons ; so that the elevation and bright appearing of 
 the one, inferred the necessary obscurity and depression of 
 the other ; and still Queen Mary was troubled with this Jit 
 of the mother, which incensed her against this her half sister. 
 
 To which two grand causes of opposition, this third may 
 also be added, because not so generally known, though in 
 itself of lesser consequence. Queen Mary had released Ed- 
 ward Courtney, earl of Devonshire, out of the Tower, where 
 long he had been detained prisoner, a gentleman of a beau- 
 tiful body, sweet nature, and royal descent, intending him, 
 as it was generally conceived, to be a husband for herself. 
 For when the said earl petitioned the queen for leave to 
 travel, she advised him rather to marry, assuring him that 
 
252 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 no lady in the land, how high soever, would refuse him for 
 a husband ; and, urging him to make his choice where he 
 pleased, she pointed herself out unto him as plainly as 
 might stand with the modesty of a maid, and majesty of a 
 queen. Hereupon the young earl (whether because that his 
 long durance had some influence on his brain, or that natu- 
 rally his face was better than his head, or out of some pri- 
 vate fancy and affection to the lady Elizabeth, or out of 
 loyal bashfulness, not presuming to climb higher, but ex- 
 pecting to be culled up) is said to have requested the queen 
 for leave to marry her sister the lady Elizabeth, unhappy 
 that his choice either went so high or no higher; for who 
 could have spoken worse treason against Mary (though not 
 against the queen) than to prefer her sister before her ? and 
 she, innocent lady, did afterwards dearly pay the score of 
 this earl's indiscretion. 
 
 For these reasons Lady Elizabeth was closely kept, and 
 narrowly sifted all her sister's reign ; Sir Bedenifield, her 
 keeper, using more severity towards her than his place re- 
 quired, yea, more than a good man should, or a wise man 
 would have done. No doubt the least tripping of her foot 
 should have cost her the losing of her head, if they could 
 have caught her to be privy to any conspiracies. 
 
 This lady as well deserved the title of Elizabeth the Con- 
 fessor, as ever Edward, her ancient predecessor, did. Mr. 
 Ascham was a good schoolmaster to her, but affliction was a 
 better ; so that it is hard to say whether she was more happj 
 in having a crown so soon, or in having it no sooner, till 
 affliction had first laid in her a low (and therefore sure] 
 foundation of humility for highness to be afterwards buill 
 thereupon. 
 
 We bring her now from the cross to the crown ; an 
 come we now to describe the rare endowments of her min 
 when, behold, her virtues almost stifle my pen, they crow 
 in so fast upon it. 
 
 She was an excellent scholar, understanding the Greek 
 and perfectly speaking the Latin ; witness her extempo 
 speech, in answer to the Pohsh ambassador, and another a 
 Cambridge, et si fanninUis iste iveus pudor (for so it began' 
 elescantly making the word J'arynnilis and well might sh< 
 
 * See her oration at large in Holinshed, p. 1026. 
 
LIFE OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 253 
 mint one new word, who did refine so much new gold and 
 silver. t Good skill she had in the French and Italian, 
 using interpreters, not for need but state. She was a good 
 poet in Englisi), and fluently made verses. In her time of 
 persecution, when a popish priest pressed her very hardly to 
 declare her opinion concerning the presence of Christ in the 
 sacrament, she truly and warily presented her judgment in 
 these verses : 
 
 'Twas God the Word that spake it. 
 He took the bread and brake it ; 
 And what the Word did make it, 
 That I believe, and take it. 
 
 And though perchance some may say this was but the 
 best of shifts and the worst of answers, because the distinct 
 manner of the presence must be believed, yet none can deny 
 it to have been a wise return to an adversary who lay at wait 
 for all advantages. Nor was her poetic vein less happy in 
 Latin. When, a little before the Spanish invasion in eighty- 
 eight, the Spanish ambassador, after a larger representation 
 of his master's demands, had summed up the effect thereof 
 in a tetrastich, she instantly in one verse rejoined her answer. 
 We will presume to English both, though confessing the 
 Latin loseth lustre by the translation. 
 
 Te veto ne pergas bello defendere Belgas : 
 Qu(B Dracus eripuit nunc restituentur oportet : 
 Quas pater evertit jubeo te condere cellas ; 
 Religio papaj'ac restituetur ad unguem. 
 
 These to you are our commands, 
 Send no help to the Netherlands : 
 Of the treasure took by Drake, 
 Restitution you must make : 
 And those abbeys build anew, 
 Which your father overthrew : 
 If for any peace you hope. 
 In all points restore the pope. 
 
 The Queen's extempore return : 
 Ad GracaSf bone rex,jient manduta calendas. 
 
 t " MoTKrta ad suum valorem reducta," is part of the epitaph 
 on her tomb. 
 
254 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Worthy king, know this your will 
 At latter Lammas we'll fulfil. 
 
 Her piety to God was exemplary, none more constant or 
 devout in private prayers; very attentive also at sermons, 
 wherein she was better affected with soundness of matter 
 than quaintness of expression : she could not well digest the 
 affected over-elegancy of such as prayed for her by the title 
 of Defendress of the Faith, and not the Defender, it being 
 no false construction to apply a masculine word to so heroic 
 a spirit. 
 
 She was very devout in returning thanks to God for her 
 constant and continual preservations ; for one traitor's stab 
 was scarce put by, before another took aim at her ; but as if 
 the poisons of treason by custom were turned natural unto 
 her, by God's protection they did her no harm. In any de- 
 sign of consequence, she loved to be long and well advised ; 
 but where her resolutions once seized, she would never let go 
 her hold, according to her motto, Semper eadem. 
 
 By her temperance she improved that stock of health 
 which nature bestowed on her, using little wine, and less 
 physic ; her continence from pleasures was admirable, and 
 she the paragon of spotless chastity, whatever some popish 
 priests (who count all virginity hid under a nun's veil) have 
 feigned to the contrary. The best is, their words are no 
 slander whose words are all slander; so given to railing that 
 they must be dumb if they do not blaspheme magistrates. 
 One Jesuit* made this false anagram on her name, 
 Elizabeth . 
 Jesabel.-^ 
 
 P"alse both in matter and manner. For allow it the abate- 
 ment of H, (as all anagrams must sue in chancery for mo- 
 derate favour), yet was it both unequal and ominous that 
 T, a solid letter, should be omitted, the presage of the 
 gallows whereon this anagrammatist was afterwards justly 
 executed . 
 
 Yea, let the testimony of Pope Sixtus Quintus himself be 
 believed, I who professed, that amongst all the princes in 
 
 * Edmond Campian. 
 
 t Our Rnglish Bibles call her Jezabel. 
 
 i Thuan. Hist. lib. 82. 
 
LIFE OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 255 
 Christendom, he found but two who were worthy to bear 
 command, had they not been stained with heresy, namely, 
 Henry the Fourth, king of France, and EHzabeth, queen of 
 England ; and we may presume that the pope, if com- 
 mending his enemy, is therein infallible. 
 
 We come to her death, the discourse whereof was more 
 welcome to her from the mouth of her private confessor than 
 from a public preacher ; and she loved rather to tell herself 
 than to be told of her mortality ; because the open mention 
 thereof made, as she conceived, her subjects divide their 
 loyalty betwixt the present and the future prince. We need 
 look into no other cause of her sickness than old age, being 
 seventy years old (David's age), to which no king of England, 
 since the Conquest, did attain. Iler weakness was increased 
 by her removal from London to Richmond in a cold winter 
 day, sharp enough to pierce through those who were armed 
 with health and youth ; also melancholy (the worst natural 
 parasite, whosoever feeds him shall never be rid of his com- 
 pany), much afflicted her, being given over to sadness and 
 silence. 
 
 Then prepared she herself for another world, being more 
 constant in prayer and pious exercises than ever before ; yet 
 spake she very little to any, sighing out more than she said, 
 and making still music to God in her heart ; and as the red 
 rose, though outwardly not so fragrant, is inwardly far more 
 cordial than the damask, being more thrifty of its sweetness 
 and reserving it in itself ; so the religion of this dying queen 
 was most turned inward in soliloquies betwixt God and her 
 own soul, though she wanted not outward expressions 
 thereof. When her speech failed her, she spake with her 
 heart, tears, eyes, hands, and other signs, so commending 
 herself to God, the best interpreter, who understands what 
 his saints desire to say. Thus died Queen Elizabeth ; whilst 
 living, the first maid on earth, and when dead, the second in 
 heaven , 
 
 Surely the kingdom had died with their queen, had not 
 the faintmg spirits thereof been refreshed by the coming in of 
 gracious King James. 
 
 She was of person tall, of hair and complexion fair, well 
 favoured, but high nosed ; of limbs and feature, neat; of a 
 stalely and majestic deportment; she had a piercing eye, 
 
256 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 wherewith she used to touch what metal strangers were made 
 of who came into her presence. But as she counted it a 
 pleasant conquest with her majestic look to dash strangers 
 out of countenance, so she was merciful in pursuing those 
 whom she overcame, and afterwards would cherish and com- 
 fort them with her smiles, if perceiving towardliness and an 
 ingenuous modesty in them ; she much affected rich and 
 costly apparel ; and if ever jewels had just cause to be proud, 
 it was with her wearing them. 
 
 LXXXI. — The Ambassador. 
 
 HE is one that represents his king in a foreign country, 
 as a deputy doth in his own dominions, under the as- 
 surance of the public faith, authorized by the law of nations. 
 He is either extraordinary for some one affair, with time 
 limited, or ordinary for general matters, during his prince's 
 pleasure, commonly called a lieger. 
 
 1 . He is born, made, or at leastwise, qualified honourably, 
 both for the honour of the sender, and him to whom he is 
 sent, especially if the solemnity of the action wherein he is 
 employed consisteth in ceremony and magnificence. Lewis 
 the Eleventh, king of France, is sufficiently condemned by 
 posterity for sending Oliver, his barber, in an embassage to 
 a princess, who so trimly dispatched his business, that he left 
 it in the suds, and had been well washed in the river at Gant 
 for his pains, if his feet had not been the more niiiible.* 
 
 2. He is of a proper, at least passable person ; otherwise if 
 he be of a contemptible presence, he is absent whilst he is 
 present, especially if employed in love businesses to advance 
 a marriage; ladies will dislike the body for a deformed 
 shadow. The jest is well known, when the state of Rome 
 sent two ambassadors, t the one having scars on his head, 
 the other lame in his feet; mittit populus Hornaniis legalionem 
 qua nec caput habet, nec pedes; the people of Rome send an 
 embassy without head or feet. 
 
 3. He hath a competent estate whereby to 7naintain his 
 
 * Comin. lib. v. cap. 14. 
 
 t Some say they sent three, and one of them a fool; and that 
 Cato should say they sent an embassy without head, heart, or 
 feet. — See Plutarch's Lives, 
 
THE AMBASSADOR. 257 
 port; for a great poverty is ever suspected, and he that hath 
 a breach in his estate lies open to be assauhed with bribes ; 
 wherefore his means ought at least to be sufficient, both to 
 defray set and constant charges, as also to make salHes and 
 excursions of expenses on extraordinary occasions, which we 
 may call supererogations of state; otherwise, if he be indigent 
 and succeed a bountiful predecessor, he will seem a fallow 
 field after a plentiful crop. 
 
 4. He is a passable scholar, well travelled in countries and 
 histories, well studied in the pleas of the crown ; I mean not 
 such as are at home, betwixt his sovereign and his subjects, 
 but abroad, betwixt his and foreign princes ; to this end he 
 is well skilled in the imperial laws. Common law itself is 
 outlaw^ed beyond the seas ; which, though a most true, is 
 too short a measure of right, and reacheth not foreign king- 
 doms. 
 
 5. He well understandeth the language of that country to 
 which he is sent ; and yet he desires rather to seem ignorant of 
 it (if such a simulation, which stands neuter betwixt a truth 
 and a lie, be lawful), and that for these reasons: first, because 
 though he can speak it never so exactly, his eloquence therein 
 will be but stammering, compared to the ordinary talk of the 
 natives : secondly, hereby he shall in a manner stand invi- 
 sible, and view others; and as Joseph's deafness heard all 
 the dialogues betwixt his brethren, so his not owning to un- 
 derstand the language, shall expose their talk the more open 
 unto him : thirdly, he shall have the more advantage to 
 speak and negotiate in his own language ; at the least wise, 
 if he cannot make them come over to him, he may meet 
 them in the midway, in the Latin, a speech common to all 
 learned nations. 
 
 6. He gets his commission and instmctions well ratified 
 and confirjned before he sets forth, otherwise it is the worst 
 prison to be commission-bound ; and seeing he must not jet 
 out the least pent-house beyond his foundation, he had best 
 well survey the extent of his authority. 
 
 7. Hefurnisheth himself with fit officers in his family, espe- 
 cially he is careful in choosing, 
 
 1. A secretary, honest and able, careful to conceal coun- 
 sels, and not such a one as will let drop out of his mouth 
 s 
 
238 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 whatsoever is poured in at his ear ; yea, the head of every 
 ambassador sleeps on the breast of his secretary, 
 
 2. A steward, wise and provident, such as can temper 
 magnificence with moderation, judiciously fashioning his 
 ordinary expenses with his master's estate, reserving a 
 spare for all events and accidental occasions, and making 
 all things to pass with decency, without any rudeness, 
 noise, or disorder. 
 
 8. He aeaaonahly presents his embassage^ and demands audi- 
 ence. Such is the fresh nature of some embassages, if not 
 spent presently they scent ill ; thus it is ridiculous to condole 
 griefs almost forgotten, for, besides that with a cruel courtesy 
 it makes their sorrows bleed afresh, it foolishly seems to 
 teach one to take that which he hath formerly digested. 
 When some Trojan ambassadors came to comfort Tiberius 
 Caesar for the loss of his son, dead well nigh a twelvemonth 
 before ; and I, said the emperor, am very sorry for your 
 grief for the death of your Hector, slain by 'Achilles a thou- 
 sand years since.* 
 
 9. Coining to have audience, he applieth himself only to 
 the prince to whom he is sent. When Chancellor Morvill, 
 ambassador from the French king, delivering his message to 
 Philip, duke of Burgundy, was interrupted by Charles, the 
 duke's son, lam sent, said he, not to treat with you, but 
 with your father. ■\ And our Mr. Wade is highly com- 
 mended, that being sent by Queen Elizabeth to Philip, king 
 of Spain, he would not be turned over to the Spanish privy 
 counsel]: (whose greatest grandees were dwarfs in honour to 
 his queen), but would either have audience from the king 
 himself, or would return without it ; and yet, afterwards, our 
 ambassador knows (if desirous that his business should take 
 effect), how and when to make his secret and underhand 
 addresses to such potent favourites as strike the stroke in 
 state ; it often happening in commonweakhs that the master's 
 mate steers the ship thereof more than the master himself. 
 
 10. In delivering his mesmge, he complies with the garb 
 and guise of the country ; either longer, briefer, more plain, 
 or more flourishing, as it is most acceptable to such to whom 
 
 * Suetonius, in Tiberio. t Comin. lib. 1. 
 
 X Cambd. Elizab. in anno 1584, p. 380. 
 
THE AMBASSADOR. 2.59 
 he directs his speech. The Italians, whose country is called , 
 the countrt/ of good wo7'Js, love the circuits of co\irtesy, that 
 an annbassador should not, as a sparrow-hawk, fly outright to 
 his prey, and meddle presently with the matter in hand; but, 
 with the noble falcon, mount in language, soar high, fetch 
 comy;asses of compliment, and then in due time stoop to 
 game, and seize on the business propounded-. Clean con- 
 trary the Switzers (who sent word to the king of France not 
 to send them an ambassador with store of words, but a trea- 
 surer with plenty of money), count all words quite out 
 which are not straight on, have an antipathy against eloquent 
 language, the flowers of rhetoric being as offensive to them 
 as sweet perfumes to such as are troubled with the mother ; 
 yea, generally, great soldiers have their stomachs sharp set to 
 feed on the matter, loathing long speeches, as wherein they 
 conceive themselves to lose time, in which they could conquer 
 half a country, and, counting bluntness their best eloquence, 
 love to be accosted in their own kind. 
 
 11 . He coiinnand^ himself not to admire ant/ thing presented 
 unto him. He looks, but not gazeth, on foreign magnificence, 
 as country clowns on a city, beholding them with a familiar 
 eye, as challenging old acquaintance, having known them 
 long before. If lie be surpris' d with a sudden wonder, he so 
 orders it, that though his soul within feels an admiration, 
 none can perceive it without in his countenance ; for, 
 
 1. It is inconsistent with the steadiness of his gravity to 
 be startled with a wonder. 
 
 2. Admiration is the daughter of ignorance; whereas he 
 ought to be so read in the world as to be posed with no 
 rarity. 
 
 3. It is a tacit confession, if he wonders at state, strength, 
 or wealth, that herein his own master's kingdom is far 
 surpassed; and yet he wdl not slight and neglect such 
 worthy sights as he beholds, which would savour too much 
 of sullenness and self-addiction, things ill beseeming his 
 noble spirit. 
 
 12. He is zealous of the least punctilio of his master s 
 honour. Herein it is most true, the law of honour servanda 
 in apicibus ; yea, a toy may be real, and a point may be 
 essential to the sense of some sentences, and worse to be 
 spared than some whole letter. Great kings wrestle together 
 
260 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 by the strength and nimbleness of their ambassadors ; where- 
 fore ambassadors are careful to afford no advantage to the 
 adverse party; and mutually no more hold is given than 
 what is gotten, lest the fault of the ambassador be drawn 
 into precedent to the prejudice of his master. He that abroad 
 will lose a hair of his king's honour, deserves to lose his own 
 head when he comes home. 
 
 13. He appears not violent in desiring any thing he would 
 effect ; but with a seeming carelessness most carefully ad- 
 vanceth his master's business. If employed to conclude a 
 peace, he represents his master as indifferent therein for his 
 own part, but that desiring to spare Christian blood, pre- 
 ponderates him for peace, whose conscience, not purse or 
 arms are weary of the war ; he entreats not, but treats for an 
 accord, for their mutual good : but if the ambassador de- 
 clareth himself zealous for it, perchance he may be forced to 
 buy those conditions w^hich otherwise would be given him. 
 
 14. He is constantly and certainly informed of all passages 
 in his oivn country. What a shame is it for him to be a 
 stranger to his native affairs ! Besides, if gulls and rumours 
 from his country be raised on purpose to amuse our ambas- 
 sador, he rather smiles than starts at these false vizards, who 
 by private instructions from home, knows the true face of his 
 country's estate ; and lest his master's secretary should fail 
 him herein, he counts it thrift to cast away some pounds 
 yearly to some private friend in the court to send him true 
 information of all home remarkables. 
 
 15. He carefully returns good intelligence to his master 
 that employeth him. 
 
 1. Speedy; not bemg such a sluggard as to write for 
 news at noon, that the sun is risen. 
 
 2. True, so far forth as may be; else he stamps it with 
 a mark of uncertainty or suspicion. 
 
 3. Full ; not filling the paper, but informing those to 
 whom it is written. 
 
 4. Material ; not grinding his advices too small, to fri- 
 volous particulars of love toys and private brawls, as one 
 layeih it to the charge of Francis Guicciardine's History,* 
 
 * Lipsius, in the end of his Politics, in his censure of histo- 
 rians. 
 
THE AMBASSADOR. 261 
 Minutissinia quaqiie narrate parum ex lege aut dignitatc 
 historia ; and yet such particulars, which are too mean to 
 be served up to the council table, may make a feast for 
 ladies, or other his friends, and therefore to such our 
 ambassador relates them by his private letters. 
 
 5. Methodical ; not running on all in a continued strain, 
 but stopping- at the stages of different businesses to breathe 
 himself and the reader, and to take and begin a nevs^ sen- 
 tence. 
 
 6. Well penned, clear and plain, not hunting after lan- 
 guage, but teaching words their distance to wait on his 
 matter, intermingling sententious speeches sparingly, lest 
 seeming affected ; and if constrained twice to write the 
 same matter, still he varieth his words, lest he may seem 
 to write like notaries by precedents. 
 
 16. He will not have his house serve as a retreating place 
 for people suspected and odious^ in that state wherein he is em- 
 ployed ; much less shall his house be a sanctuary for offenders, 
 seeing the very horns of God's altar did push away from 
 them such notorious malefactors as did fly unto them for 
 protection. 
 
 1 7 . He is cautious not to practise any treacherous act against 
 the prince under whoyn he lives, lest the shield of his embassy 
 prove too small to defend him from the sword of justice, see- 
 ing that for such an offence an ambassador is resolved into a 
 private man, and may worthily be punished, as in the cases 
 of Bernardinus Mendoza, and the bishop of Ross.* Yea, 
 he will not so much as break forth publicly into any dis- 
 course which he knows will be distasteful in that country 
 wherein he is employed. Learned Bodin, who, some seventy 
 years since, waited on Monsieur into England, was here, 
 though highly admired for his learning, condemned much for 
 his indiscretion, if his co-rival's pen may be credited ;t for, 
 being feasted at an English lord's table, he fell into the odious 
 discourse, that a princess, meaning Mary Queen of Scots, 
 was, after Queen Elizabeth, the presumptive inheritrix of the 
 English crown, notwithstanding an English law seemed to 
 
 * See his case largely discussed in Cambd. Elizab. by the best 
 civilians, anno 1571. 
 
 t Francisc. Hottoman, in his Treatise of an Ambass. fob 42. 
 
262 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 exclude those who are born out of the land ; and yet, said 
 
 he, Z know not where t/iis law u, for all the diligence that 
 
 I have used to find it out ; to whom it was suddenly replied 
 
 by the lord that entertained him, You shall find it written 
 
 on the backside of your Salic law ; a judicious and bitmg 
 
 rebound. 
 
 18. He is careful of suspicious conipli/ivg with that prince 
 to whom he is sent ; as to receive from him any extraordmary 
 gifts, much less pensions, which carry with them more than 
 an appearance of evil. Sir Amias Paulet was so scrupulous 
 herein, that being ambassador in France in the days of 
 Queen Elizabeth, he would not at his departure receive from 
 the French king the chain of gold, which is given of course, 
 till he was half a league out of the city of Paris.* 
 
 19. If he hath a7?j/ libera mandata, unlimited instructions, 
 herein his discretion is most admirable. 
 
 But what go I about to do ? Hereof enough already, if not 
 too much ; it better complying with my profession to practise 
 St. Paul's precept to mine own parishioners, Now then we 
 are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you 
 by us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be reconciled to God.\ 
 
 LXXXII.— The Good General. 
 
 THE soldier, whom we formerly described, hath since, 
 by the stairs of his own deserts, climbed up to be a 
 general, and now we come to character him. 
 
 1. He is pious in the ordering of his own life. Some 
 falsely conceive that religion spoileth the spirit of a general, 
 as bad as a rainy day doth his plume of feathers, making it 
 droop and hang down ; whereas, indeed, piety only begets 
 true prowess. 
 
 2. He acknowledgeth God the generalissimo of all armies ; 
 who in all battles, though the number be never so unequal, 
 reserves the casting voice for himself ; yet can I scarce believe 
 what one tells us, how Walter Pletemberg,i master of the 
 Teutonic order, with a small number, slew in a battle a 
 
 * Fr. Hottom an, Treat, of Ambass,fol.23, 24. t 2 Cor. v. 20. 
 
 * Tilman Bredenbach. de Bello Livon. ; and Fitz Herbert, of 
 Policy and Religion, part i. c. 14. 
 
THE GOOD GENERAL. 263 
 hundred thousand Muscovite enemies, with the loss of but 
 one man on his side. 
 
 3. He hath gained skill in his place bit long experience ; 
 not beginning to lead others before himself ever knew to 
 follow, having never before, except in cock-matches, beheld 
 any battles. Surely they leap best in their providence for- 
 ward, who fetch their rise farthest backward in their expe- 
 rience. 
 
 4. He either is, or is presumed, valiant. Indeed, courage 
 in him is necessary, though some think that a general is above 
 valour, who may command others to be so ; as if it were all 
 one whether courage were his naturally, or by adoption, who 
 can make the vahant deeds of others seem his own ; and his 
 reputation for personal manhood once raised, will bear itself 
 up; like a round body, some force is required to set it, but 
 a touch will keep it agoing ; indeed, it is extreme indiscretion, 
 except in extremities, for him to be prodigal of his person. 
 
 5. He is cheerful and willing in undergoing of labour. 
 Admirable are the miracles of an industrious army: witness 
 the mighty ditch in Cambridgeshire made by the East Angles, 
 commonly called Devil's Ditch, as if the pioneers thereof 
 came from hell ; thus the effeminateiiess of our age, defaming 
 what it should imitate, falsely traduces the monuments of their 
 ancestors' endeavours. 
 
 6. He loves, and is beloved of his soldiers, whose good will 
 he attaineth, 
 
 1. By giving them good words in his speeches unto 
 them. When wages have sometimes accidentally fallen 
 short, soldiers have accepted the payment in the fair lan- 
 guage and promises of their general. 
 
 2. By partaking with his soldiers in their painful em- 
 ployments. When the English, at the Spanish fleet's 
 approach in eighty-eight, drew their ships out of Plymouth 
 haven, the Lord Admiral Howard himself towed a cable, 
 the least joint of whose exemplary hand drew more than 
 twenty men besides.* 
 
 3. By sharing with them in their wants. When victuals 
 have grown scant, some generals have pinched themselves 
 to the same fare with their soldiers, who could not com- 
 
 * Carabden, Elizab. anno 1588. 
 
264 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 plain that their mess was bad, whilst their general was 
 fellow commoner with them. 
 
 4. By taking notice, and rewarding of their deserts; 
 never disinheriting a worthy soldier of his birthright, of the 
 next office due unto him ; for a worthy man is wounded 
 more deeply by his own general's neglect than by his 
 enemies' sword : the latter may kill him, but the former 
 deadens his courage, or, which is worse, maddens it into 
 discontent ; who had rather others should make a ladder of 
 his dead corpse to scale a city by it, than a bridge of him 
 whilst alive for his punies to give him the go-bij, and pass 
 over him to preferment. For this reason, chiefly, besides 
 some others, a great and valiant English general, in the 
 days of Queen Elizabeth, was hated of his soldiers, be- 
 cause he disposed officers by his own absolute will, without 
 respect of orderly advancing such as deserved it, which 
 made a great man once salute him with this letter : SjV, — 
 If you will be pleased to bestow a captain s place on the 
 bearer hereof, being a worthy gentleman, he shall do that 
 for you which never as yet any soldier did, namely, pray to 
 God for your health and happiness. 
 
 7. He is fortunate in what he undei^tukes. Such a one 
 was Julius Caesar, who, in Britain,* a country undiscovered, 
 peopled with a valiant nation, began a war in autumn without 
 apparent advantage, not having any intelligence there, being 
 to pass over the sea into a colder climate (an enterprise, saith 
 one,-)- well worthy the invincible courage of C«sar, but not 
 of his accustomed prudence), and yet returned victorious. 
 Indeed, God is the sole disposer of success; other gifts he 
 also scattereth amongst men, yet so that they themselves 
 scramble to g-ather them up, whereas, success God gives 
 immediately into their hands on whom he pleaseth to be- 
 stow it. 
 
 8. He trieth the forces of a new enemy before he encoun- 
 ters him. Samson is half conquered when it is known where 
 his strength lies; and skirmishes are scouts for the discovery 
 of the strength of an army before battle be given. 
 
 9. He makes his flying enemy a bridge of gold, and dis- 
 
 * Caesar, Comment, lib. 4. 
 
 t The Duke of Rohan, in the Complete Captain, p. 19. 
 
THE GOOD GENERAL. 265 
 arms them of their best weapon, which is necessity to fight 
 whether they will or no. Men forced to a battle against their 
 intention, often conquer beyond their expectation ; stop a 
 flying coward, and he will turn his legs into arms, and lay 
 about him manfully ; whereas, open him a passage to escape, 
 and he will quickly shut up his courage. 
 
 But I dare dwell no longer on this subject. When the 
 pope earnestly wrote to King Richard the First not to detain 
 in prison his dear son, the martial bishop of Beavois, the 
 King sent the pope back the armour wherein the bishop was 
 taken, with the words of Jacob's sons to their father, See 
 whet he?^ or 710 this be the coat ofthi/ son. Surely a corslet 
 is no canonical coat for me, nor suits it with my clergy pro- 
 fession to proceed any further in this warlike description, 
 only we come to give an example thereof. 
 
 LXXXIII. — The Life of Gustavus Adolphus, 
 King of Sweden. 
 
 GUSTAVUS Adolphus, king of Sweden, born anno 
 Domini 1594, had princely education both for arts 
 and arms. In Italy he learnt the mathematics, and in other 
 places abroad, the French, Italian, and German tongues ; 
 and after he was king, he travelled under the name of 
 Mr. G. A. R. S.,* being the four initial letters of his name 
 and title. 
 
 He was but seventeen years old at his father's death, being 
 left not only a young king, but also in a young kingdom, 
 for his title to the crown of Sweden was but five years old, 
 to wit, since the beginning of his father's reign. All his 
 bordering princes on the north (nothing but the north 
 bounded on him), were his enemies ; the duke-emperor of 
 Muscovy on the east, the king of Denmark on the west, 
 and of Poland on the south The former two laid claim to 
 parcels, the latter to all his kingdom ; yet was he too great 
 for them in his minority, both defending his own, and gain- 
 ing on them. Woe be to the kingdom whose king is a child; 
 yet blessed is that kingdom whose king, though a child in 
 age, is a man in worth. 
 
 * Gustavus Adolphus Rex Succorum. — Dr. Watts, vn Charact. 
 ad finem, part iii. p. 183. 
 
2oG THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 These his first actions had much of glory, and yet some- 
 what of possibihty and credit in them. But chronicle and 
 belief must strain hard to make his German conquest pro- 
 bable with posterity ; coming in with eleven thousand men, 
 having no certain confederates but some of his alliance, whom 
 the emperor had ousted of all their estates ; and yet in two 
 years and four months he left the emperor in as bad a case 
 almost as he found those princes in. 
 
 God's providence herein is chiefly to be admired, who, 
 to open him a free entrance into Germany, diverted the 
 imperial and Spanish forces into Italy, there to scramble 
 against the French for tlie dukedom of Mantua ; for Heaven 
 only knows how much protestant flesh the imperialists had 
 devoured, if that bone had not stuck in their teeth. 
 
 If we look on second causes, we may ascribe his victories 
 to this king's piety, wisdom, valour, and other virtues. His 
 piety to God was exemplary, being more addicted to prayer 
 than to fight, as if he would rather conquer heaven than 
 eartli. He was himself exceeding temperate, save only too 
 much given to anger, but afterwards he would correct him- 
 self, and be choleric with his choler, shewing himself a man 
 in the one, and a saint in the other. 
 
 He was a strict observer of martial discipline, the life of 
 war, without which an army is but a crowd (not to say 
 herd) of people. He would march all day in complete 
 armour, which was by custom no more burthen to him tlian 
 his arms ; and to carry his helmet, no more trouble than his 
 head; whilst his example made the same easy to all his 
 soldiers ; he was a strict punisher of misdemeanors and 
 wanton intemperance in his camp ; and yet let me relate this 
 story from one present therein. 
 
 When first he entered Germany, he perceived how that 
 many women followed his soldiers, some being their wives, 
 and some wanting nothing to make them so but marriage, 
 yet most passing for their laundresses, though commonly de- 
 filing more than they wash. The king coming to a great 
 river, after his men and the waggons were passed over, 
 caused tlie bridge to be broken down, hoping so to be rid of 
 these feminine impediments; but they on a sudden lift up a 
 panic shriek, which pierced the skies and the soldiers* hearts 
 on the other side of the river, who instantly vowed not to 
 
LIFE OF KI]\G OF SWEDEN. 267 
 stir a foot farther, except with baggage, and that the women 
 might be fetched over, which was done accordingly ; for the 
 king finding this ill humour so generally dispersed in his 
 men, that it was dangerous to purge it all at once, smiled 
 out his anger for the present, and permitted what he could 
 not amend ; yet this abuse was afterwards reformed by 
 degrees. 
 
 He was very merciful to any that would submit ; and as 
 the iron gate miraculously opened to St. Peter of its own 
 accord, so his mercy wrought miracles, making many city 
 gates open to him of themselves, before he ever knocked at 
 them to demand entrance, the inhabitants desiring to shroud 
 themselves under his protection ; yea, he was merciful to 
 those places which he took by assault, ever detesting the 
 bloodiness of Tilly at Magdenburg, under the ashes whereof 
 he buried his honour, coming valiant thither, and departing 
 cruel thence. In such cases he was merciful to women 
 (not like those generals who know the differences of sex in 
 their lust, but not in their anger), yea, the very Jesuits them- 
 selves tasted of his courtesy, though merrily he laid to their 
 charge that they would neither preach faith to, nor keep faith 
 with others. 
 
 He had the true art, almost lost, of encamping ; where he 
 would lie in his trenches in despite of all enemies, keeping 
 the clock of his own time, and would fight for no man's 
 pleasure but his own : no seeming flight or disorder of his 
 enemies should cozen him into a battle, nor their daring 
 bravadoes anger him into it, nor any violence force him to 
 fight till he thought fitting himself, counting it good man- 
 ners in war to take all, but give no advantages. 
 
 It was said of his armies that they used to rise when the 
 swallows went to bed, when winter began, his forces most 
 consisting of northern nations; and a Swede fghts best when 
 he can see his own breath. He always kept a long vacation 
 in the dog days, being only a saver in the summer, and a 
 gainer all the year besides. His best harvest was in the 
 snow ; and his soldiers had most life in the dead of winter. 
 
 He made but a short cut in taking of cities, many of whose 
 fortifications were a wonder to behold ; but what were they 
 then to assault and conquer ? At scaling of walls he was 
 excellent for contriving, as his soldiers in executing : it seem- 
 
268 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 ing a wonder that their bodies should be made of air, so 
 light to climb, whose arms w^ere of iron, so heavy to strike. 
 Such cities as would not presently open unto him, he shut 
 them up, and having business of more importance than to 
 imprison himself about one strength, he would consign the 
 besieging thereof to some other captain; and, indeed, he 
 wanted not his Joabs, who, when they had reduced cities to 
 terms of yielding, knew, with as much wisdom as loyalty, to 
 entitle their David to the whole honour of the action. 
 
 He was highly beloved of his soldiers, of whose deserts 
 he kept a faithful chronicle in his heart, and advanced them 
 accordingly. All valiant men were Swedes to him ; and he 
 differenced men in his esteem by their merits, not their 
 country. 
 
 To come to his death, wherein his reputation suffers in 
 the judgments of some, for too much hazarding of his own 
 person in the battle ; but surely some conceived necessity 
 thereof urged him thereunto. For this his third grand set 
 battle in Germany, was the third and last asking of his 
 banns to the imperial crown ; and had they not been for- 
 bidden by his death, his marriage in all probability had in- 
 stantly followed ; besides, jiever prince hath founded great 
 empii^e, hut by making war in person ; nor hath lost any, but 
 when he made war by his lieutenants which made this king 
 the more adventurous. 
 
 His death is still left in uncertainty, whether the valour 
 of open enemies, or treachery of false friends caused it. 
 His side won the day, and yet lost the sun that made it; and 
 as one saith, 
 
 Upon this place the great Gustavus died. 
 Whilst victory lay bleeding by his side. 
 
 Thus, the readiest way to lose a jewel is, to overprize it ; 
 for, indeed, many men so doted on this worthy prince and 
 his victories (without any default of his, who gave God the 
 glory), that his death in some sort seemed necessary to vin- 
 dicate God's honour, who usually maketh that prop of flesh 
 to break whereon men lay too great weight of their expecta- 
 tion. 
 
 ' Duke of Rohan, in his Complete Captain, cap. 22. 
 
LIFE OF KING OF SWEDEN. 269 
 After his death, how did men struggle to keep him alive 
 in their reports ! partly out of good will, which made them 
 kindle new hopes of his life at every spark of probability, 
 partly out of infidelity that his death could be true ; first, 
 they thought so valiant a prince could not live on earth ; and 
 when they saw his life, then they thought so valiant a prince 
 could never die, but that his death was rather a concealment 
 for a time, daily expecting when the politicly dead should 
 have a resurrection in some noble exploit. 
 
 I find a most learned pen applying these Latin verses to 
 this noble prince, and it is honour enough for us to translate 
 them : 
 
 Li templo plus quam sacerdos. 
 
 In republica plus quam rex. 
 
 In sententia dicenda plus quam senator. 
 
 In judicio plus quam jurisconsultus. 
 
 In exercitu plus quam imperator. 
 
 In acie plus quam miles. 
 
 hi adversis pej^J'erendis, injuriisque condonandis plus quam vir. 
 
 In puhlica libertate tuenda plus quam civis. 
 
 In amicitia colenda plus quam amicus. 
 
 In convictu plus quam familiaris. 
 
 In venatione ftrUque domundis plus quam leo. 
 
 In tola reliqua vita plus quam philosophus."^ 
 
 More than a priest he in the church might pass. 
 
 More than a prince in commonwealth he was. 
 
 More than a councillor in points of state. 
 
 More than a lawyer matters to debate. 
 
 More than a general to command outright. 
 
 More than a soldier to perform a fight. 
 
 More than a man to bear affliction strong. 
 
 More than a man good to forgive a wrong. 
 
 More than a patriot country to defend. 
 
 True friendship to maintain, more than a fi-iend. 
 
 More than familiar sweetly to converse. 
 
 And though in sports more than a lion fierce, 
 
 To hunt and kill the game ; yet he expressed 
 
 More than philosopher in all the rest. 
 
 4, 
 
 * Dr. Hakewill, in his Apology for Divine Providence, lib. 
 c. 11, p. 546. 
 
270 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 The Jesuits made him to be the antichrist,* and allowed 
 him three years and a half of reign and conquest ; but had 
 he lived that full term out, the true antichrist mig^ht have 
 heard further from him, and Rome's tragedy might have had 
 an end, whose fifth and last act is still behind. Yet one 
 Jesuit, more ingenuous than the rest, gives him this testimony, 
 that, save the badness of his cause and religion, he had nothing 
 defective in him which belonged to an exctUent king and a 
 good captain. ^ 
 
 Thus let this our poor description of this king serve like 
 a flat gravestone, or plain pavement, for the present, till the 
 richer pen of some Grotius or Heinsius shall provide to erect 
 some statelier momument on his memory. 
 
 LXXXIV. — The Prince, or, Heir Apparent 
 TO the Crown. 
 
 HE is the best pawn of the future felicity of a kingdom. 
 His father's subjects conceive they take a further estate 
 of happiness in the hopes of his succession. 
 
 1. In his infamy he gives presages of his future worth. 
 First-fruits are dispatched before, to bring news to the world 
 of the harvest of virtues which are ripening in him ; his own 
 royal spirit prompts him to some speeches and actions, 
 wherein the standers-by will scarce believe their own ears 
 and eyes that such things can proceed from him ; and yet 
 no wonder if they have light the soonest, who live nearest 
 the east, seeing princes have the advantage of the best birth 
 and breeding. The Gregorian account goes ten days before 
 the computation of the English calendar ; but the capacity 
 of princes goes as many years before private men's of the 
 same age. 
 
 Antevenit sortem meritis, virtutibus, anno'i. 
 His worth above his wealth appears. 
 And virtues go beyond his years. 
 
 2. He is neither kept too long from the knowledge, nor 
 brought too soon to the acquaintance with his own greatness. 
 To be kept too long in distance from himself, would breed 
 
 * Descript. Bell Suecici, per Aut. Ationvmum, p. 186. 
 t Silvester Petia Saucta, in his book against Du Mouhn. 
 
THE PRINCE. 271 
 
 in him a soul too narrow for his place ; on the other side, he 
 need not to be taught his greatness too soon, who will meet 
 with it everywhere. The best of all is, when his governors 
 open him to himself by degrees, that his soul may spread 
 according to his age. 
 
 3. He pluyeth himself into learning before he is aware of 
 it. Herein much is to be ascribed to the wisdom of his 
 teachers, who always present learning unto him, as angels 
 are painted, smiling, and candy over his sourest studies with 
 pleasure and delight, observing seasonable time, and fit 
 method ; not like many country schoolmasters, who in their 
 instructions spill more than they fill, by their over-hasty 
 pouiing of it in. 
 
 4. He sympathizeth with him that by a proxy is corrected 
 for his fence ; yea, sometimes goeth further, and, above his 
 age, considereth that it is but an emblem how hereafter his 
 people may be punished for his own fault. He hath read 
 how the Israelites (2 Sam. xxiv. 17), were plagued for David's 
 numbering of them ; and yet, withal, he remerabereth how 
 in the first verse of the same chapter, the wrath of the Lord 
 was kinJied against Israel, and he (by permitting of Satan 
 the instrument, 1 Chron. xxi. 1), moved David to number 
 them. And as the stomach and vital parts of a man are often 
 corroded with a rheum falling fi-om the head, yet so that the 
 di^affection of the stomach first caused the breeding of the 
 same offensive distillation ; so our young prince takes notice 
 of a reciprocation of faults and punishments betwixt king 
 and kingdom, both making up the same body, yea, that 
 sometimes the king is corrected for the people's offences, 
 that so e contra : indeed, in relatives, neither can be vvell if 
 both be not. 
 
 5. He is most careful in reading and attentive in hearing 
 God's word. King Edward the SiXth (who, though a sove- 
 reign, might still in age pass for a prince), accurately noted 
 the days, texts, and names of m.inisters that preached before 
 him. Next to God's word, our prince studies Basilicon 
 Do7on, that royal gift, which only King James was able to 
 give, and only King James, his son, worthy to receive. 
 
 6. He is careful in choosing and using his recreation; 
 refusing such which in their very posture and situation are 
 too low for a prince. In all his exercises he affects comeliness. 
 
272 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 or rather a kind of carelessness in show, to make his activities 
 seem the more natural, and avoids a toiling and laborious 
 industry, especially seeing each drop of a prince's sweat is a 
 pearl, and not to be thrown away for no cause : and princes 
 are not to reach, but to trample on recreations, making them 
 their footstool to heighten their souls for seriousness, taking 
 them in passage thereunto. 
 
 7. His clothes are such as may beseem his greatness ; espe- 
 cially when he solemnly appears, or presents himself to foreign 
 ambassadors ; yet he disdains not to be plain at ordinary 
 times. The late Henry, Prince of Wales,* being taxed by 
 some for his too long wearing of a plain suit of Welsh frize ; 
 Would, said he, mi/ country cloth will last for ever ! 
 
 8. He begins to study his own country, and the people 
 therein ; what places are, what may be fortified ; which can 
 withstand a long siege, and which only can make head against 
 a present insurrection. If his land accosteth the sea, he con- 
 sidereth what havens therein are barred, whose dangerous 
 channels fence themselves, and their rocks are their block- 
 houses ; what quays are rusty with sands and shelves, and 
 what are scoured with a free and open tide ; with what ser- 
 viceable ships belong thereunto. He takes notice also of the 
 men in the land, and disdains his soul should be blurred with 
 unjust prejudices, but fairly therein writes every one in order, 
 as they are ranked by their own deserts. 
 
 9. Hence he looks abroad to see how his country stands in 
 relation to foreign kingdoms; how it is friended with con- 
 federates, how opposed with enemies. His little eyes can 
 cast a sour glance on the suspicious greatness of any near 
 borderer, for he conceives others weakened by their own 
 distance. He considers foreign kingdoms and states, whether 
 they stand on their own strength, or lean on the favour of 
 friends, or only hang by a political geometry, equally poising 
 themselves betwixt their neighbours, like Lucca and Geneva, 
 the multitude of enemies' mouths keeping them from being 
 swallowed up. He quickly perceives that kings, how nearly 
 soever allied, are most of kin to their own interest; and 
 though the same religion be the best bond of foreign affection, 
 yet even this breaks too often ; and states, when wounded, 
 
 * Sr. Fr. Nethersol, in the Fun. Orat. of him, p. 16. 
 
THE PRINCE. 273 
 will cure themselves with a plaster made of the heart's blood 
 of their best friends. 
 
 10. He tunes his soul in consort to the disposition of his 
 king father. Whatsoever his desire be, the least word, coun- 
 tenance, or sign, given of his father's disallowance, makes 
 him instantly desist from further pursuit thereof with satis- 
 faction, in regard he understands it disagreeing to his ma- 
 jesty's pleasure, and with a resolution not to have the least 
 semblance of being discontented. He hath read how such 
 princes who were undutiful to their parents, either had no 
 children, or children worse than none, who repaid their 
 disobedience. He is also kind to his brothers and sisters, 
 whose love and affection he counteth the bulwarks and redoubts 
 for his own safety and security. 
 
 1 1 . When grown to keep a court hy himself, he is careful 
 in well ordering it. The foresaid Prince Henry's court con- 
 sisted of few less than five hundred persons, and yet his 
 grave and princely aspect gave temper to them all, so that in 
 so numerous a family, not so much as any blows were 
 given.* 
 
 12. With a frowning countenance he hrusheth off from 
 his soul all coui^t moths of flattery ; especially he is deaf to 
 such as would advise him, without any, or any just grounds, 
 when he comes to the crown, to run counter to the practice 
 of his father ; and who, knowing that muddy water makes 
 the strongest beer, may conceive the troubling and embroil- 
 ing of the state will be most advantageous for their active 
 spirits; indeed, seldom two successive kings tread in the 
 same path ; if the former be martial, though the war be just, 
 honourable, and profitable, yet some will quarrel with the 
 time present, not because it is bad,-f but because it is, and 
 put a prince forward to an alteration. If the former king 
 were peaceable, yet happiness itself is unhappy in being too 
 common, and many will desire war (conceited sweet to 
 every palate which never tasted it), and urge a prince there- 
 unto. But our prince knows to estimate things by their 
 true worth and value, and will not take them upon the credit 
 whereon others present them unto him. 
 
 * Sir William Cornwallis, in the Life of Prince Henry, 
 t 'Aft TO rrapov (iagv. 
 
 T 
 
274 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 13. He conceives they will he most loving to the branch 
 who were most loyal to the root, and most honoured his 
 father. We read how Henry the Fifth, as yet Prince of 
 Wales, intending to bear out one of his servants for a mis- 
 demeanor, reviled Sir William Gascoyn, lord chief justice of 
 the King's Bench, to his face in open court. The aged judge 
 considered how this his action would beget an immortal 
 example, and the echo of his words, if unpunished, would 
 be resounded for ever to the disgrace of majesty', which is 
 never more on its throne, than when, either in person or in 
 his substitutes, sitting on the bench of justice, and thereupon 
 commanded the prince to the prison, till he had given satis- 
 faction to his father for the affront offered. Instantly down 
 fell the heart of great Prince Henry, which, though as hard 
 as rock, the breath of justice did easily shake, being first 
 undermined with an apprehension of his own guiltiness. 
 And King Henry the Fourth, his father, is reported greatly 
 to rejoice, that he had a judge who knew how to command 
 by, and a son who knew how to submit to, his lavv^s. And 
 afterward, this prince, when king (first conquering himself, 
 and afterwards the French), reduced his court from being a 
 forest of wild trees to be an orchard of sweet fruit, banishing 
 away his bad companions, and appointing and countenanc- 
 ing those to keep the key of his honour who had locked up 
 his father's most faithfully. 
 
 14. He shewn himself to the people on fit occasions. It is 
 hard to say whether he sees or is seen with more love and 
 delight. Every one that brings an eye to gaze on him, 
 brings also a heart to pray for him. But his subjects in 
 reversion most rejoice to see him in his military exercises,, 
 wishing him as much skill to know them, as little need to 
 use them, seeing peace is as far to be preferred before vic- 
 tory itself, as the end is better than the means. 
 
 15. He values his future sovereignty y not by impunity in 
 doing evil, but by power to do good. What now his desire is, 
 then his ability shall be : and he more joys that he is a member 
 of the true church, than the second in the land. Only hefears 
 to have a crown too quickly, and therefore lengthens out his 
 father's days with his prayers for him, and obedience to him. 
 And thus we leave Solomon to delight in David, David in 
 Solomon, their people in both. 
 
275 
 
 LXXXV. — The Life of Edward the Black Prince. 
 
 EDWARD the Black Prince, so called from his dreaded 
 acts, and not from his complexion,* was the eldest son 
 to Edward the Third, by Philippa his queen. He was boin 
 anno 1329, on the fifteenth of June, being Friday, at Wood- 
 stock in Oxfordshire. His parents perceiving in him more 
 than ordinary natural perfections, were careful to bestow on 
 him such education in piety and learning, agreeable to his 
 high birth. The Prince met their care with his towardhness, 
 being apt to lake fire, and blaze at the least spark of instruc- 
 tion put into him. 
 
 We find him to be the first Prince of Wales, whose charter 
 at this day is extant,t with the particular rites of investiture, 
 which were the coronet, and ring of gold, with rod of silver, 
 worthily bestowed upon him, who may pass for a mirror of 
 princes, whether we behold him in peace or in war. He in 
 the whole course of his life manifested a singular observance 
 to his parents, to comply with their will and desire ; nor less 
 was the tenderness of his affection to his brothers and sisters, 
 whereof he had many. 
 
 But as for the martial performances of this prince, they are 
 so many and so great, that they would fill whole volumes : 
 we will only insist on three of his most memorable achieve- 
 ments, remitting the reader for the rest to our English histo- 
 rians. The first shall be his behaviour in the battle of Cressy + 
 against the French, wherein Prince Edward, not fully eighteen 
 years old, led the fore-front of the English. 
 
 Tliere was a causeless report (the beginning of a rumour is 
 sometimes all the ground thereof) spread through the French 
 army, that the English were fled : whereupon the French 
 posted after them, not so much to overcome (diis they counted 
 done) but to overtake them, preparing themselves rather to 
 pursue than to fight. But coming to the town of Cressy, 
 they found the English fortified in a woody place, and at- 
 tending in good array to give battle. Whereat the French, 
 falling from tlieir hopes, were extremely vexed (a fool's paradise 
 
 * For King Edward, his father, called him his fair son. — Speed, 
 p. 579. 
 
 t See the copy thereof in Mr. Selden's Tides of Honour, p. 595. 
 $ 1346, in the twentieth year of Edward the Third. 
 
276 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 is a wise man's hell), finding their enemies' faces to stand 
 where they looked for their backs. And now both armies 
 prepared to fight ; whilst, behold, flocks of ravens and vultures 
 in the air flew thither : bold guests to come without an invi- 
 tation ; but these smell-feast birds, when they saw the cloth 
 laid, the tents of two armies pitched, knew there would be 
 good cheer, and came to feed on their carcasses. 
 
 The English divided themselves into three parts : the fore- 
 most, consisting most of archers, led by the Black Prince ; 
 the second, by the earl of Northampton; the third, com- 
 manded by King Edward in person. The French were 
 treble in number to the English, and had in their army the 
 three kings, of France, Bohemia, and Majorca : Charles, 
 duke of Alengon, with John the Bohemian king, led the 
 vanguard : the French king, Philip, the main battle ; whilst 
 Amie, duke of Savoy, brought up the rear. 
 
 The Genoan archers in the French fore-front, wearied with 
 marching, were accused for their slothfulness, and could 
 neither get their wages nor good words, which made many 
 of them cast down their bows, and refuse to fight ; the rest 
 had their bowstrings made useless, being wetted with a 
 sudden shower which fell on their side: but heaven's smiling 
 offended more than her weeping, the sun suddenly shining 
 out in the face of the French, gave them so much light that 
 they could not see. 
 
 However, Duke Charles, breaking through the Genoans, 
 furiously charged the fronts of the Enghsh, and joined at 
 hand-strokes with the prince's battle, who, though fighting 
 most courageously, was in great danger : therefore King Ed- 
 ward was sent unto (who hitherto hovered on a hillock, ju- 
 diciously beholding the fight) to come and rescue his son. 
 The king apprehending his case dangerous, but not desperate, 
 and him rather in need than extremity, told the messenger, 
 Is my son alive ? let him die or conquer, that he may have the 
 honour of the day. 
 
 The English were vexed, not at his denial, but their own 
 request ; that they should seem to suspect their king's fatherly 
 affection, or martial skill, as needing a remembrancer to tell 
 him his time. To make amends, they laid about them man- 
 fully, the rather because they knew that the king looked on, to 
 testify their valour, who also had the best cards in his own 
 hand, though he kept them for arevy. 
 
LIFE OF THE BLACK PRTNCE. 277 
 The victory began to incline to the English, when, rather 
 to settle than get the conquest, the king, hitherto a spectator, 
 came in to act an epilogue. Many English, with short knives 
 for the nonce, stabbed the bellies of their enemies, cut the 
 throats of more, letting out their souls wheresoever they could 
 come at their bodies : and to all such as lay languishing, 
 they gave a short acquittance, that they had paid tlieir debt 
 to nature. This makes French writers complain of the Eng- 
 lish cruelty, and that it had been more honour to the general, 
 and profit to the soldiers, to have drawn less blood, and more 
 money, in ransoming captives, especially seeing many French 
 noblemen, wlio fought like lions, were killed like calves. 
 Others plead that in war all ways and weapons are lawful, 
 where it is the greatest mistake not to take all advantages. 
 
 Night came on, and the king commanded no pursuit should 
 be made, for preventing of confusion ; for soldiers scarce 
 follow any order when they follow their flying enemy ; and 
 it was so late, that it might have proved too soon to make a 
 pursuit. 
 
 The night proved exceeding dark (as mourning for the 
 bloodshed), nor was the next morning comforted with the 
 rising of the sun, but remained sad and gloomy, so that in the 
 mist many Frenchmen lost their way, and then their lives, 
 falling into the hands of the English : so that next day's 
 gleanings for the number, though not for the quality of persons 
 slain, exceeded the harvest of the day before. And thus this 
 victory, next to God's providence, was justly ascribed to the 
 Black Prince's valour, who there won and wore away the 
 ostrich feathers, then the arms of John, king of Bohemia, 
 there conquered and killed, and'. therefore since made the 
 hereditary emblems of honour to the Princes of Wales.* 
 
 The battle of Poictiers followed ten years after, which was 
 fought betwixt the foresaid Black Prince, and John, king of 
 France.f Before the battle began, the English were reduced 
 to great straits, their enemies being six to one. The French 
 conceived the victory, though not in hand, yet within reach, 
 and their arm must be put out, not to get, but take it. All 
 articles with the English they accounted alms, it being great 
 charity, but no policy to compound with them. But what 
 shall we say? War is a game wherein very often that side 
 
 * Vid. Cambd. Remains, p. 344. f September 19, 1356. 
 
278 
 
 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 loselh which layeth the odds. In probability they might have 
 famished the English without fighting with them, had not 
 they counted it a lean conquest so to bring their enemies to 
 misery, without any honour to themselves. 
 
 The conclusion was, that tlie French would have the 
 English lose their honour to save their lives, tendering them 
 unworthy conditions, which being refused, the battle was 
 begun. The F'rench king made choice of three hundred 
 prime horsemen to make the first assault on the English ; 
 the election of which three hundred made more than a thou- 
 sand heartburnings in his army every one counted his loy- 
 alty or manhood suspected, who was not chosen into this 
 number; and this took off the edge of their spirits against 
 their enemies, and turned it into envy and disdain against 
 their friends. 
 
 The French horse charged them very furiously, whom the 
 English entertained with a feast of arrows, first, second, third 
 course, all alike. Their horses were galled with the bearded 
 piles, being unused to feel spurs in their breasts and buttocks. 
 The best horses were worst wounded, for their metal made 
 one wound many; and that arrow which at first did but 
 pierce, by their struggling did tear and rend. Then would 
 they know no riders, and the riders could know no ranks; 
 and in such a confusion, an army fights against itself. One 
 rank fell foul with another, and the rear was ready to meet 
 with the front : and the valiant Lord Audley, charging them 
 before they could repair themselves, overcame all the horse, 
 Quo parte belli, saith my author, invicti Galli hahebantur. 
 The horse being put to flight, the infantry, consisting most of 
 poor people, whereof many came into thelield with conquered 
 hearts, grinded with oppression of their gentry, counted it 
 neither wit nor manners for them lo stay, when their betters 
 did fly, and made post-haste after them. Six thousand 
 common soldiers were slain, fifty-two lords, and seventeen 
 hundred knights and esquires; one hundred ensigns taken, 
 with John the French king, and two thousand prisoners of note. 
 
 The French had a great advantage of an after-game, if they 
 had returned again, and made head, but they had more mind 
 to make heels, and run away. Prince Edward, whose prowess 
 herein was conspicuous, overcame his own valour, both in 
 
 * Paulus /Emil. in the Life of King John, p. 286. 
 
LIFE OF THE BLACK PRINCE. 279 
 his piety, devoutly giving to God the whole glory of the con- 
 quest ; and in his courtesy, with stately humility entertaining 
 the French prisoner-king, whom he bountifully feasted that 
 night, though the other could not be merry, albeit he was sup- 
 ped with great cheer, and knew himself to be very welcome. 
 
 The third performance of this valiant prince, wherein we 
 will instance, was acted in Spain, on this occasion. Peter, 
 king of Castile, was driven out of his kingdom by Henry his 
 base brother and the assistance of some French forces. Prince 
 Edward, on this Peter's petition, and by his own father's per- 
 mission, went with an army into Spain, to reinstate him in 
 his kingdom : for though this Peter was a notorious tyrant, 
 (if authors in painting his deeds do not overshadow them, to 
 make them blacker than they were) yet our prince, not looking 
 into his vices, but his right, thought he was bound to assist 
 him: for all sovereigns are like the strings of a bass-viol, 
 equally tuned to the same height, so that by sympathy, he 
 that toucheth the one moves the other. Besides, he thought 
 it just enough to restore him, because the F'rench helped to 
 cast him out ; and though Spain was far off, yet our prince 
 never counted himself out of his own country, whilst in any 
 part of the world ; valour naturalizing a brave spirit through 
 the universe. 
 
 With much ado he effected the business through many 
 difficulties, occasioned partly by the treachery of King Peter, 
 who performed none of the conditions promised ; and partly 
 through the barrenness of the country, so that the prhice was 
 forced to sell all his own plate, Spain more needing meat than 
 dishes, to make provision for his soldiers ; but especially 
 through the distemper of the climate, the air, or fire shall I 
 say, thereof being extreme hot, so that it is conceived to have 
 caused this prince's death, which happened soon after his re- 
 turn. What Enghsh heart can hold from inveighing against 
 Spanish air, which deprived us of such a jewel, were it not 
 that it may seem since to have made us some amends, when 
 lately the breath of our nostrils breathed in that climate, and 
 yet by God's providence was kept there, and returned thence 
 in health and safety ? 
 
 Well may this prince be taken for a paragon of his age 
 and place, having tiie fewest vices, with so many virtues. In- 
 deed he was somewhat given to women, our chronicles father- 
 ing two base children on him ; so hard it is to find a Samson 
 
•280 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 without a Delilali. And seeing never king or king's eldest sons 
 since the Conquest before his time married a subject, [ must 
 confess his inatcli was much beneath himself, taking the 
 double reversion of a subject's bed, marrying Joan, countess 
 of Salisbury, who had been twice a widow. But her surpass- 
 ing beauty pleads for him herein, and yet her beauty was the 
 meanest thing about her, being surpassed by her virtues. And 
 what a worthy woman must she needs be herself, whose very 
 garter hath given so much honour to kings and princes ? 
 
 He died at Canterbury, June the 8tb, 1376, in the forty- 
 sixth year of his age : it being wittily observed of the short 
 lives of many worthy men, f'atuos d morte defendit ipsa insul- 
 sitas ; si cui plus cateris aliquatitulum salis insit ( quod mire- 
 mini) stutim putrescit.- 
 
 LXXXVL— The King. 
 
 HE is a mortal god- This world at the first had no other 
 charter for its being than God's Jiat : kings have the 
 same in the present tense : I have said, Ye are gods. We will 
 describe him, first as a good man, so was Henr}" the Third; 
 then as a good king, so was Richard the Third, both which 
 meeting together make a king complete. For he that is not a 
 good man, or but a good man, can never be a good sovereign. 
 
 1. He is temperate in the ordering of his own li fe. O the 
 mandate of a king's example is able to do much ! especially 
 he is, 
 
 1. Temperate in his diet. When .F,schines commended 
 Philip, king of jVIacedon, for a jovial man that would 
 drink freely, Demosthenes answered, that this teas a good 
 quality in a sponge, hut not in a king.f 
 
 2. Continent in his pleasures. Yea, princes' lawful chil- 
 dren are far easier provided for than the rabida fames 
 of a spurious offspring can be satisfied, whilst their para- 
 mours and concubines (counting it their best manners to 
 carve for themselves all they can come by) prove intole- 
 rably expensive to a state. Besides, many rebellions have 
 risen out of the marriage-bed defiled. 
 
 2. He holds his crown immediat tlx/ from the God of heaven. 
 The Most High ruleth in the kingdoms of men, and giveth 
 
 * Sir Francis Xethersol, in his Fun. Orat. on Prince Henry, 
 p. 26. t Plutarch, in the Life of Demosthenes. 
 
THE KING. 281 
 thoJi to whomsoever he loilL!^ Cujusjusm nascuntur homines, 
 ejus jussu constttuuntur principes, saith a father :f Inde illls 
 potestas unde spiritus, saith another.]; And whosoever shall 
 remount to the first original of kings, shall lose his eyes in 
 discovering the top thereof, as past ken, and touching the 
 heavens. We read of a place in Mount Olivet (wherein the 
 last footsteps, they say, of our Saviour, before he ascended 
 into heaven, are to be seen) that it will ever lie open to the 
 skies, and will not admit of any close or covering to be made 
 over it, how costly soever.§ Far more true is this of the condi- 
 tion of absolute kings, who in this respect are ever sub dio, 
 so that no superior power can be interposed betwixt them 
 and heaven. Yea, the character of loyalty to kings so deeply 
 impressed in subjects' hearts, shews that only God's finger 
 wrote it there. Hence it is if one chance to conceive ill of his 
 sovereign, though within the cabinet of his soul, presently his 
 own heart grows jealous of his own heart, and he could wish 
 the tongue cut out of his tell-tale thoughts, lest they should 
 accuse themselves. And though sometimes rebels (atheists 
 against the God on earth) may labour to obliterate loyalty in 
 them, yet even then their conscience, the king's attorney, 
 frames articles against them, and they stand in daily fear lest 
 Darius Longimanus (such a one is every king) should reach 
 them, and revenge himself. 
 
 3. He cluimeth to he supreme head on earth over the church 
 in his dominions. Which his power over all persons and 
 causes ecclesiastical, 
 
 1. Is given him by God, who alone hath the original 
 propriety thereof. 
 
 2. Is derived unto him by a prescription, time out of 
 mind in the law of nature, declared more especially in the 
 word of God. 
 
 3. Is cleared and averred by the private laws and statutes 
 of that state wherein he lives. For since the pope (starting 
 up from being the emperor's chaplain to be his patron) 
 hath invaded the rights of many earthly princes, many 
 wholesome laws have been made in several kingdoms to 
 assert and notify their king's just power in spiritualibus, 
 
 * Dan. iv. 17. t Irenaeus, lib. 5. X Tertul. Apol. p. 5, 6. 
 
 § " Nullo modo contegi aut concamerari potest, sed transitus 
 ejus a terra ad coelura usque patet apertuin." — Adricom. de Terra 
 Sancta ex Hieron. et aliis Autoribus. 
 
282 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 Well therefore may our king look with a frowning face on 
 such whose tails meet in this firebrand (which way soever 
 the prospect of their faces be) to deny princes' power in church 
 matters. Two Jesuits* give this far-fetched reason why Sa- 
 muel at the feast caused the shoulder of the sacrifice to be 
 reserved and kept on purpose for Saul to feed on ; because, 
 say they, kings of all men have most need of strong shoulders, 
 patiently to endure those many troubles and molestations they 
 shall meet with, especially, I may well add, if all their subjects 
 were as troublesome and disloyal as the Jesuits. The best 
 is, as God hath given kings shoulders to bear, he hath also 
 given them arms to strike, such as deprive them of their law- 
 ful authority in ecclesiastical affairs. 
 
 4. He improves his poicer to defend true religion. Sacer- 
 dotal offices, though he will not do, he will cause them to be 
 done. He will not offer to burn incense with Uzziah, yet he will 
 burn idolaters' bones with Josiah : I mean, advance piety by 
 punishing profaneness. God saith to his church, kings shall 
 be thy nursing fathers, and their queens thy nursing mothers.f 
 And oh ! let not princes out of state refuse to be so themselves, 
 and only hire others, it belonging to subjects to suck, but to 
 princes to suckle religion by their authority. They ought to 
 command God's word to be read and practised, wherein the 
 blessed memory of King James shall never be forgotten. His 
 predecessor in England restored the Scripture to her subjects ; 
 but he in a manner restored the Scripture to itself, in caus- 
 ing the neio tratislation thereof, whereby the meanest that 
 can read English, in eflfect understands the Greek and 
 Hebrew. A princely act, which shall last even when the 
 lease of time shall be expired : verily I say unto you, where- 
 soever this translation shall be read in the whole realm, 
 there shall also this that this king hath done be told in me- 
 morial of him. 
 
 5. He useth mercy and justice in his proceedings against 
 offenders. Solomon saith, the throne is established by justice :X 
 and Solomon saith, the throne is upholden by ;«e;Ty.§ Which 
 two proverbs speak no more contradiction, than he that saith 
 that the two opposite side walls of a house hold up the same 
 
 * Zanchez and Velasquez, in their Comments on the Text, 1 
 Sam. ix. 14. 
 
 f Isaiah xlix. 23. t Prov. xvi. 12. ^ Prov. xx. 28. 
 
THE KING. 283 
 roof. Yea, as some astronomers, though en-oneously, con- 
 ceived the crystaUine sphere to be made of water, and there- 
 fore, to be set next the primum mobile, to allay the heat thereof, 
 which otherwise by the swiftness of his motion would set all 
 the world on fire ; so mercy must ever be set near justice, for 
 the cooling and tempering thereof. In his mercy, our king 
 desires to resemble the God of heaven, who measureth his 
 judgments by the ordinary cubit ; but his kindnesses by the 
 cubit of the sanctuary, twice as big : yea, all the world had 
 been a hell without God's mercy. 
 
 6. He is rich in having a plentiful exchequer of his people's 
 hearts. Allow me, said Archimedes, to stand in the air, and 
 I will move the earth. But our king having a firm footing in 
 his subjects' affections, what may he do, yea, what may he not 
 do ? making the coward valiant, the miser liberal ; for love, 
 the key of hearts will open the closest coffers. Meantime 
 how poor is that prince amidst all his wealth, whose subjects 
 are only kept by a slavish fear, the jailer of the soul. An iron 
 arm fastened with screws may be stronger, but never so useful, 
 because not so natural, as an arm of flesh, joined w-ith muscles 
 and sinews. Loving subjects are most serviceable, as being 
 more kindly united to their sovereign, than those which^are 
 only knocked on with fear and forcing. Besides, where sub- 
 jects are envassaled with fear, prince and people mutually 
 w^atch their own advantages, which being once offered them, 
 it is wonderful if they do not, and woful if they do, make use 
 thereof. 
 
 7. He willingli/ orders his actions by the laws of his realm. 
 Indeed some maintain that princes are too high to come under 
 the roof of any laws, except they voluntarily of their good- 
 ness be pleased to bow themselves thereunto, and that it is 
 corban, a gift and courtesy, in them to submit themselves 
 to their laws. But whatsoever the theories of absolute mo- 
 narchy be, our king loves to be legal in all his practices, and 
 thinks that his power is more safely locked up for him in 
 his laws, than kept in his own will ; because God alone 
 makes things lawful by willing them, whilst the most calm 
 princes have sometimes gusts of passion, which, meeting with 
 an unlimited authority in them, may prove dangerous to 
 them and theirs. Yea, our king is so suspicious of an un- 
 bounded power in himself, that though the wideness of his 
 strides could make all the hedge stiles, yet he will not go over 
 
284 THE HOLY STATE. 
 
 but where he may. He also hearkeneth to the advice of 
 good counsellers, remembering the speech of Antoninus the 
 emperor: JEguius est ut ego tot taliumque amicorurn consilium 
 sequar, quum tot talesque arnicimeam unius voluntatem. And 
 yet withal our king is careful to maintain his just prerogative, 
 that as it be not outstretched, so it may not be overshortened. 
 
 Such a gracious sovereign God hath vouchsafed to this 
 land. How pious is he towards his God ! attentive in hearing 
 the word, preaching religion with his silence, as the minister 
 doth with his speech ! How loving to his spouse, tender to 
 his children, faithful to his servants whilst they are faithful 
 to their own innocence ; otherwise leaving them to justice 
 under marks of his displeasure. How doth he, with David, 
 walk in the midst of his house without partiality to any ! How 
 just is he in punishing wilful murder ! so that it is as easy to 
 restore the murdered to life, as to keep the murderer from 
 death. How merciful is he to such who, not out of liegier 
 malice, but sudden passion, may chance to shed blood ; to 
 whom his pardon hath allowed leisure to drop out their 
 own souls in tears, by constant repentance all the days of their 
 lives ! How many wholesome laws hath he enacted for the 
 good of his subjects ! How great is his humility in so great 
 height ; which maketh his own praises painful for himself to 
 hear, though pleasant for others to report ! His royal virtues 
 are too great to be told, and too great to be concealed. All 
 cannot, some must break forth from the full hearts of such as 
 be his thankful subjects. 
 
 But I must either stay or fall. My sight fails me, dazzled 
 with the lustre of majesty : all I can do is pray : — 
 
 "Give the king thy judgments, O Lord, and thy righteous- 
 ness to the king's son : smite through the loins of those that rise 
 up against his majesty, but upon him and his let the crown 
 flourish ! Oh, cause his subjects to meet his princely care for 
 their good, with a proportionable cheerfulness and alacrity in 
 his service, that so thereby the happiness of church and state 
 may be continued. Grant this, O Lord, for Christ Jesus his 
 sake, our only Mediator and Advocate. Amen." 
 
THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 The Tile person shall he no more called liberal, nor the churl said 
 to be bountiful. isaiah xxxii. 5. 
 
 And they shall teach my people the difference betwixt the holy 
 and the profane. ezek. xliv. 23. 
 
THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 I. — The Harlot 
 
 IS one that herself is both merchant and merchandize, which 
 she selleth for profit, and hath pleasure given her into the 
 bargain, and yet remains a great loser. To describe her is 
 very difficult, it being hard to draw those to the life who 
 never sit still : she is so various in her humours, and mutable, 
 it is almost impossible to character her in a fixed posture ; 
 yea, indeed, some cunning harlots are not discernible from 
 honest women. Solomon s-dhh^ she wipeth her mouth ; and 
 who can distinguish betwixt that which was never foul, and 
 that which is cleanly wiped ? 
 
 1 . Her love is a hlanky xoherein she writeth the next man 
 that teiidereth his affection. Impudently the harlot lied, 
 (Prov. vii. 15.) Therefore came 1 forth to meet thee, dili- 
 gently to seek thy face, and I have found thee : else under- 
 stand her that she came forth to meet him, not qua talis, but 
 qua primus, because he came first ; for any other youngster in 
 his place would have served her turn : yet see how she makes 
 his chance her courtesy, she affecting him as much above 
 others, as the common road loves the next passenger best. 
 
 2 . As she sees, so herself is seen by her own eyes. Some- 
 times she stares on men with full fixed eyes ; otherwhiles she 
 squints forth glances, and contracts the beams in her burn- 
 ing glasses, to make them the hotter to inflame her objects ; 
 sometimes she dejects her eyes in a seeming civility, and many 
 mistake in her a cunning for a modest look. But as those 
 bullets which graze on the ground do most mischief to an 
 array, so she hurts most with those glances which are shot 
 from a downcast eye. 
 
 3. tSV^e writes characters of wantonness with her feet as she 
 walks : and what Potiphar's wife said with her tongue, she 
 sailh unto the passengers with her gesture and gait. Come, lie 
 
288 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 with me; and nothing angerelh her so much, as when modest 
 men affect a deafness and will not hear, or a dulness and 
 will not understand the language of her behaviour. She 
 counts her house a prison, and is never well till gadding 
 abroad : sure it is true of women what is observed of elm, if 
 lying within doors dry, no timber will last sound longer, but 
 if without doors exposed to weather, no wood sooner rots 
 and corrupts. 
 
 4. Yet some harlots continue a kind of strange coyness even 
 to the very last : which coyness differs from modesty, as 
 much as hemlock from parsley. They will deny common 
 favours, because they are too small to be granted : they will 
 part with all or none, refuse to be courteous, and reserve them- 
 selves to be dishonest ; whereas women truly modest, will 
 willingly go to the bounds of free and harmless mirth, but 
 will not be dragged any farther. 
 
 5. She is commonly known by herwhorish attire; as crisping 
 and curling, making her hair as winding and intricate as her 
 heart, painting, wearing naked breasts. The face indeed 
 ought to be bare, and the haft should lie out of the sheath ; 
 but where the back and edge of the knife are shewn, it is to 
 be feared they mean to cut the fingers of others. I must 
 confess some honest v^^omen may go thus, but no whit the 
 honester for going thus. The ship may have Castor and 
 Pollux for the badge, and notwithstanding have St. Paul for 
 the lading : yet the modesty and discretion of honest ma- 
 trons were more to be commended, if they kept greater dis- 
 tance from the attire of harlots. 
 
 6. Sometimes she ties herself in marriage to one, that she 
 may the more freely stray to many ; and cares not though 
 her husband comes not within her bed, so be it he goeth not out 
 beyond the four seas. She useth her husband as a hood, 
 whom she casts off in the fair weather of prosperity, but puts 
 him on for a cover in adversity, if it chance she prove with 
 child. 
 
 7. Yet commonly she is as barren as lustful. Yea, who 
 can expect that malt should grow to bring new increase ? 
 Besides by many wicked devices she seeks on purpose to make 
 herself barren (a retrograde act to set nature back) making 
 many issues, that she may have no issue, and a hundred more 
 damnable devices. 
 
THE HARLOT. 289 
 Which wicked projects first from hell did flow, 
 And thither let the same in silence go, 
 Best known of them who did them never know. 
 
 And yet for all her cunning, God sometimes meets with 
 her (who varieth his ways of dealmg with wantons, that they 
 may be at a loss in tracing him), and, sometimes against her 
 will, she proves with child, which, though unable to speak, 
 yet tells at the birth a plain story to the mother's shame. 
 
 8. At last, when her deeds grow most shameful, she grows 
 most shameless. So impudent, that she herself sometimes 
 proves both the poison and the antidote, the temptation and 
 the preservative; young men distasting and abhorring her 
 boldness. And those wantons who, perchance, would wil- 
 lingly have gathered the fruit from the tree, will not feed on 
 such fallings. 
 
 9. Generally/ she dies very poor. The wealth she gets is 
 like the houses some build in Gothland, made of snoM', no 
 lasting fabric ;* the rather, because she who took money of 
 those who tasted the top of her wantonness, is fain to give it 
 to such who will drink out the dregs of her lust. 
 
 10. Shedieth commoyily of a loathsome disease ; I mean that 
 disease, unknown to antiquity, created within some hundreds 
 of years, which took the name from Naples. When hell in- 
 vented new degrees in sins, it was time for heaven to invent 
 new punishments. Yet is this new disease now grown so 
 common and ordinary, as if they meant to put divine justice 
 to a second task to find out a newer. And now it is high 
 time for our harlot, being grown loathsome to herself, to run 
 out of herself by repentance. 
 
 Some conceive that when King Henry the Eighth destroyed 
 the public stews in this land, which till his time stood on the 
 bank's side on South wark, next the Bear-garden (beasts and 
 beastly women being very fit neighbours), he rather scattered 
 than quenched the fire of lust in this kingdom, and, by turn- 
 ing the flame out of the chimney where it had a vent, more 
 endangered the burning of the commonwealth. But they are 
 deceived : for whilst the laws of the land tolerated open un- 
 cleanne^, God might justly have made the whole state do 
 
 * Olaus Magnus, de Rit. Sept. lib. 1. cap. 23. 
 u 
 
290 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 penu.nce for whoredom ; whereas now that sin, though com- 
 mitted, yet is not permitted, and though, God knows, it be 
 too general, it is still but personal. 
 
 II. — The Life of Joan Queen of Naples. 
 
 JOAN, grandchild to Robert, king of Naples, by Charles his 
 son, succeeded her grandfather in the kingdom of Naples 
 and Sicily, anno 1343; a woman of a beautiful body, and 
 rare endowments of nature, had not the heat of her lust soured 
 all the rest of her perfections, whose wicked life and woful 
 death we now come to relate.* And I hope none can justly 
 lay it to my charge, if the foulness of her actions stain through 
 the cleanest language I can wrap them in. 
 
 She was first married unto her cousin Andrew, a prince 
 of royal extraction, and of a sweet and loving disposition. But 
 he being not able to satisfy her wantonness, she kept company 
 with lewd persons, at first privately, but afterwards she pre- 
 sented her badness visible to every eye, so that none need look 
 through the chinks where the doors were open. 
 
 Now Elizabeth, queen of Hungary, her husband Andrew's 
 mother, was much oflfended at the badness of her daughter- 
 in-law, whose deeds were so foul she could not look on them, 
 and so common she could not look besides them ; wherefore 
 in a matronly way she fairly advised her to reform her courses. 
 For the lives of princes are more read than their laws, and 
 generally more practised: yea, their example passeth as cur- 
 rent as their coin, and what they do they seem to command 
 to be done. Cracks in glass, though past mending, are no 
 great matter ; but the least flaw in a diamond is consider- 
 able : yea, her personal fault was a national injury, which 
 might derive and put the sceptre into a wrong hand. 
 
 These her mild instructions she sharpened with severe threat- 
 enings : but no razor will cut a stony heart. Queen Joan 
 imputed it to age's envy, old people persuading youth to leave 
 tho^e pleasures, which have left themselves. Besides, a mother- 
 in-law's sermon seldom takes well with an audience of daugh- 
 ters-in-law. Wherefore the old queen, finding the other past 
 grace (that is, never likely to come to it), resolved no longer 
 
 * Taken out of Brovius An. Eccles. an. 1344; Petrarch, lib. 
 5 ; Epist. et Surnmontius ; Hist. Neopol. lib. 3. 
 
LIFE OF JOAN OF NAPLES. 291 
 to punish another's sin on herself, and vex her own righteous 
 soul, but, leaving Naples, returned into Hungary. 
 
 After her departure Queen Joan grew weary of her hus- 
 band Andrew, complaining of his insufficiency, though those 
 who have caninwn uppetitum are not competent judges what 
 is sufficient food: and she caused her husband, in the city 
 of Aversa, to be hung upon a beam and strangled in the night 
 time, and then threw out his corpse into a garden, where it 
 lay some days unburied. 
 
 There goes a story that this Andrew, on a day coming into 
 the queen's chamber, and findnig her twisting a thick string 
 of silk and silver, demanded of her for what purpose she 
 made it: she answered. To hang you in it;* which he then 
 little believed, the rather because those who intend such mis- 
 chief never speak of it before. But such blows in jest-earnest 
 are most dangerous, which one can neither receive in love, 
 nor refuse in anger. 
 
 Indeed she sought in vain to colour the business, and to 
 divert the suspicion of the murder from herself, because all 
 the world saw tliat she inflicted no punishment on the actors 
 of it,' who were in her power. And in such a case, when 
 a murder is generally known, the sword of the magistrate 
 cannot stand neuter, but doth justify what it doth not punish. 
 
 Besides, his corpse was not cold before she was hot in a 
 new love, and married Lewis, prince of Tarentum, one of the 
 most beautiful men in the world. But it was hard for her to 
 please her love and her lust in the same person. This prince 
 wasted the state of his body to pay her the conjugal debt, 
 which she extorted beyond all modesty or reason, so un- 
 quenchable was the wildfire of her wantonness. 
 
 After his death she (hating widowhood as much as nature 
 doth vaciuim) married James, king of Majorca, and com- 
 monly styled prince of Calabria. Some say he died of a 
 natural death ; others, that she beheaded him for lying with 
 another woman (who would suffer none to be dishonest but 
 herself) ; others, that he was unjustly put to death, and forced 
 to change worlds, that she might change husbands. 
 
 Her fourth husband was Otho of Brunswick, who came a 
 commander out of Germany, with a company of soldiers, and 
 
 * CoUenusius, lib. 5. Regn. ISeopol. 
 
292 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 performed excellent service in Italy. A good soldier he was, 
 and it was not the least part of his valour to adventure on so 
 skittish a beast: but he hoped to feast his hungry fortune on 
 this reversion. By all four husbands she had no children ; 
 either because the drought of her wantonness parched the 
 fruit of her womb, or else because provident nature prevented 
 a generation of monsters from her. 
 
 By this time her sins were almost hoarse with crying to 
 heaven for revenge. They mistake who think divine justice 
 sleepeth, when it winks for awhile at offenders. Hitherto 
 she had kept herself in a whole skin by the rents which were 
 in the church of Rome. For there being a long time a schism 
 betwixt two popes, Urban and Clement, she so poised herself 
 between them both, that she escaped unpunished. This is 
 that Queen Joan that gave Avignon in France (yet under a 
 pretence of sale) to Pope Urban and his successors : the 
 stomach of his holiness not being so squeamish, but that he 
 would take a good alms from dirty hands. It may make the 
 chastity of Rome suspicious with the world, that she hath 
 had so good fortune to be a gainer by harlots. 
 
 But see now how Charles, prince of Dyrachium, being 
 next of kin to Prince Andrew that was murdered, comes out 
 of Hungary with an army into Naples, to revenge his uncle's 
 blood. He was received without resistance of any, his very 
 name being a petard to make all the city gates fly open where 
 he came. Out issues Otho, the queen's husband, with an 
 army of men out of Naples, and most stoutly bids him battle, 
 but is overthrown ; yet was he suffered fairly to depart the 
 kingdom, dismissed with this commendation, That never a 
 more valiant knight fought in defence of a more vicious lady. 
 
 Queen Joan finding it now in vain to bend her fist, fell to 
 bowing of her knees, and, having an excellent command of all 
 her passions save her lust, fell down flat before Charles the 
 conqueror, and submitted herself : Hitherto, said she, I have 
 eateaned thee in place of a son, hut seeing God will have it 
 so, hereafter T shall acknowledge thee for my lord. Charles 
 knew well that necessity, her secretary, endited her speech for 
 her, which came little from her heart; yet, to shew that he 
 had as plentiful an exchequer of good language, promised 
 her fairly for the present : but mercy itself would be ashamed 
 to pity so notorious a malefactor. After some months' im- 
 
THE WITCH. 293 
 
 prisonment, she was carried to the place where her husband 
 was murdered, and there accordingly hanged, and cast out 
 of the window into the garden, whose corpse at last was 
 buried in the nunnery of St. Clare. 
 
 III.— The Witch. 
 
 BEFORE we come to describe her, we must premise and 
 prove certain propositions, whose truth may otherwise 
 be doubted of. 
 
 1. Formerly there were witches. Otherwise God's law 
 had fought against a shadow, Thou shalt not suffer a loitck 
 to live ;* yea, we read how King Saul, who had formerly 
 scoured witches out of all Israel, afterwards drank a draught 
 of that puddle himself. 
 
 2. There are witches for the present, though those night- 
 birds Jly not so frequent li/ in flocks, since the light of the 
 gospel. Some ancient arts and mysteries are said to be lost ; 
 but sure the devil will not wholly let down any of his gainful 
 trades. There be many witches at this day in Lapland, 
 who sell winds to mariners for money, (and must they not 
 needs go whom the devil drives ?) though we are not bound 
 to believe the old story of Ericus, king of Swedeland, who 
 had a cap,t and as he turned it, the wind he wished for 
 would blow on that side. 
 
 3. It is very hard to prove a witch. Infernal contracts 
 are made without witnesses. She that in presence of others 
 will compact with the devil, deserves to be hanged for her 
 folly as well as impiety. 
 
 4. Many are unjustly accused for witches. Sometimes 
 out of ignorance of natural, and misapplying of supernatu- 
 ral causes; sometimes out of their neighbours' mere malice; 
 and the suspicion is increased, if the party accused be no- 
 toriously ill-favoured ; whereas deformity alone is no more 
 argument to make her a witch, than handsomeness had 
 been evidence to prove her a harlot ; sometimes, out of 
 their own causeless confession. Being brought before a 
 magistrate, they acknowledge themselves to be witches, 
 
 • Exod. xviii. 22. 
 
 + Therefore called " Ventosus pileus." — Olaus Magnus, de 
 Gent Septeut. lib. 3. c. 14. 
 
294 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 being themselves rather bewitched with fear, or deluded 
 with fancy. But the self-accusing of some is as Uttle to 
 be credited as the self-praising of others, if alone without 
 other evidence. 
 
 5. Witches are commonly of the feminine sex. Ever 
 since Satan tempted our grandmother Eve, he knows that 
 that sex is most liquorish to taste, and most careless to 
 swallow his baits. Nescio quid hahet muliehre Jiomen 
 semper cum sucris if they light well, they are inferior to 
 few men in piety ; if ill, superior to all in superstition. 
 
 6. They are coinmonly distinguished into white and black 
 witches. White, I dare not say good witches {for woe be 
 to him that culleth evil good), heal those that are hurt, and 
 help them to lost goods. But better it is to lap one's pot- 
 tage like a dog, than to eat it mannerly with a spoon of the 
 devil's giving : black witches hurt, and do mischief. But 
 in deeds of darkness there is no difference of colours : the 
 white and the black are both guilty alike in compounding 
 with the devil. And now we come to see by what degrees 
 people arrive at this height of profaneness. 
 
 1. At the first she is only ignorant, a7id very malicious. She 
 hath usually a bad face, and a worse tongue, given to railing 
 and cursing, as if constantly bred on Mount Ebal ; yet speak- 
 ing perchance worse than she means, though meaning worse 
 than she should. And as the harmless wapping of a cursed 
 cur may stir up a fierce mastiff to the worrying of sheep, so, 
 on her cursing, the devil may take occasion, by God's permis- 
 sion, to do mischief, without her knowledge, and perchance 
 against her will. 
 
 2. SoJ7ie have been made witches by endeavouring to defend 
 themselves against witchcraft ;t for, fearing some suspected 
 witch should hurt them, they fence themselves vnth the devil's 
 shield against the devil's sword ; put on his ichole armour, 
 beginning to use spells and charms to safeguard themselves. 
 Tlie art is quickly learnt, to which nothing but credulity and 
 practice is required ; and they often fall from defending them- 
 selves to offending of others, especially the devil, not being 
 dainty of his company, where he finds welcome ; and being 
 invited once, he haunts ever after. 
 
 * Fulgentius, in Sermon. 
 
 t " INJulti dum vitare student quae vitanda nonsunt, fugavana 
 superstitionis superstitiosi fiunt." — Card, de Subtil, p. 924. lib. 8. 
 
THE WITCH. 295 
 
 3. She begins at first with doing tricks, rather strange than 
 hurtful; yea, some of them are pretty and pleasing. But it 
 is dangerous to gatlier flowers that grow on the banks of the 
 pit of hell, for fear of falling in ; yea, they who play with the 
 devil's rattles will be brought by degrees to wield his sword, 
 and from making of sport they come to doing of mischief. 
 
 4. At last she indents downright with the devil, lie is to 
 find her some toys for a time, and to have her soul in ex- 
 change. At the first, to give the devil his due, he observes 
 the agreement to keep up his credit, else none would trade 
 with him ; though at last he either deceives her with an equi- 
 vocation, or at some other small hole this serpent wmds out 
 himself, and breaks the covenants. And where shall she, 
 poor wretch, sue the forfeited bond ? In heaven she neither 
 can nor dare appear ; on earth she is hanged if the contract be 
 proved ; in hell her adversary is judge, and it is woful to ap- 
 peal from the devil to the devil. But for a while let us behold 
 her in her supposed felicity. 
 
 5. She taketh her free progress from one place to another. 
 Sometimes the devil doth locally transport her : but he will 
 not be her constant hackney, to carry such luggage about, 
 but oftentimes, to save porterage, deludes her brains in her 
 sleep, so that they brag of long journeys, w^hose heads never 
 travelled from their bolsters. These, with Drake, sail about 
 the world, but it is on an ocean of their own fancies, and in 
 a ship of the same : they boast of brave banquets they have 
 been at, but they would be very lean should they eat no other 
 meat : others will persuade, if any list to believe, that by a 
 witch-bridle they can make a fair of horses of an acre of 
 besom weed. O, silly souls ! O, subtle Satan, that deceived 
 them ! 
 
 6. With strange figures and words she summons the devil to 
 attend her: using a language which God never made at the 
 confusion of tongues, and an interpreter must be fetched from 
 hell to expound it. With these, or Scripture abused, the devil 
 is ready at her service. Who would suppose that a roaring 
 lion could so finely act the spaniel ? One would think he were 
 too old to suck, and yet he will do that also for advantage. 
 
 7. Sometimes she enjoins him to do more for her than he is 
 able ; as to wound those whom God's providence doth arm, 
 or to break through the tents of blessed angels, to hurt one of 
 God's saints. Here Satan is put to his shifts, and his wit must 
 
296 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 help him, where his power fails ; he either excuseth it, or 
 seemingly performs it, lengthening his own arm by the dim- 
 ness of her eye, and presenting the seeming bark of that tree 
 which he cannot bring. 
 
 8. She lives commonly hut very poor. Methinks she should 
 bewitch to herself a golden mine, at least good meat, and 
 whole clothes : but it is as rare to see one of her profession, 
 as a hangman, in a whole suit. Is the possession of the 
 devil's favour here no better? Lord, what is the reversion of 
 it hereafter ! 
 
 9. When arraigned for her life, the devil leaves her to the 
 law to shift for htrself. He hath worn out all his shoes in 
 her former service, and w ill not now go barefoot to help her ; 
 and the circle of the halter is found to be too strong for all 
 her spirits. Yea, Zoroaster himself,* the first inventor of 
 magic, though he laughed at his birth, led a miserable life, 
 and died a woful death in banishment. We will give a 
 double example of a witch : first, of a real one, out of the 
 Scripture, because it shall be above all exception ; and then 
 of one deeply suspected, out of our own chronicles. 
 
 IV. — The Witch of ENBOR.f 
 
 HER proper name we neither find, nor need curiously 
 inquire ; without it she is described enough for our 
 knowledge, too much for her shame. 
 
 King Saul had banished all witches and sorcerers out of 
 Israel ; but no besom can sweep so clean as to leave no 
 crumb of dust behind it. This witch of Endor still keeps 
 herself safe in the land. God hath his remnant where saints 
 are cruelly persecuted ; Satan also his remnant where of- 
 fenders are severely prosecuted ; and, if there were no more, 
 the whole species of witches is preserved in this ifidividuum, 
 till more be provided. 
 
 It happened now that King Saul, being ready to fight with 
 the Philistines, was in great distress, because God answered 
 him not concerning the success of the battle. With the 
 silent, he will be silent. Saul gave no real answer in his 
 obedience to God's commands; God will give no vocal 
 answer to Saul's requests. 
 
 * Plinius, lib. 3. cap. 1. 
 
 t 1 Sam. xxviii. 
 
THE WITCH OF ENDOR. 297 
 Men's minds are naturally ambitious to know things to 
 come ; Saul is restless to know the issue of the fight. Alas, 
 what needed he to set his teeth on edge with the sourness of 
 that bad tidings, who soon after was to have his belly full 
 thereof. 
 
 He said to his servants, Seek me out (no wonder she was 
 such a jewel to be sought for) one with a familiar spirit; 
 which was accordingly performed, and Saul came to her in a 
 disguise. Formerly, Samuel told him that his disobedience 
 was as witchcraft ; now Saul falls from the like to the same, 
 and tradeth witli witches indeed (the receiver is as bad as the 
 thief), and at his request she raiseth up Samuel to come 
 unto him. 
 
 What, true Samuel? It is above Satan's power to degrade 
 a saint from glory, though for a moment : since his own fall 
 thence, he could fetch none from heaven. Or was it only the 
 true body of Samuel ? No, the precious ashes of the saints 
 (the pawn for the return of their souls) are locked up safe in 
 the cabinet of their graves, and the devil hath no key unto 
 it. Or, lastly, was it his seeming body ? He that could not 
 counterfeit the least and worst of worms,* could he dissemble 
 the shape of one of the best and greatest of men ? 
 
 Yet this is most probable, seeing Satan could change him- 
 self into an angel of light, and God gives him more power at 
 some times than at other. However, we will not be too 
 peremptory herein, and build standing structures of bold 
 assertions on so uncertain a foundation; rather, with the 
 Rechabites, we will live in tents of conjectures, which, on 
 better reason, we may easily alter and remove. 
 
 The devil's speech looks backward and forward, relates 
 and foretells : the historical part thereof is easy, recounting 
 God's special favours to Saul, and his ingratitude to God ; 
 and the matter thereof very pious. Not everyone that saith, 
 Lord, Lord, whether to him or of him, shall enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven ; for Satan here useth the Lord's name six 
 times in four verses. The prophetical part of his speech is 
 harder ; how he could foretell, To-morrow shalt thou and thy 
 sons be with 7ne. What, with me, true Samuel, in heaven ? 
 That was too good a place, will some say, for Saul. Or with 
 
 * Exod. viii. 18. 
 
298 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 me, true Satan, in hell ? That was too bad a place for Jona- 
 than. What then ? With me, pretended Samuel, in a^y, in the 
 state of the dead. 
 
 But how came the witch, or Satan, by this knowledge? 
 Surely that ugly monster never looked his face in that beau- 
 tiful glass of the Trinity, which, as some will have it, repre- 
 sents things to the blessed angels. No doubt, then, he ga- 
 thered it by experimental collection, who, having kept an 
 exact ephemerides of all actions for more than five thousand 
 years together, can thereby make a more than probable guess 
 of future contingents ; the rather, because accidents in this 
 world are not so much new as renewed : besides, he saw it 
 in the natural causes in the strength of tlie Philistines, and 
 weakness of the Israelitish army, and in David's ripeness to 
 succeed Saul in the throne. Perchance, as vultures are said 
 to smell the earthliness of a dying corpse, so this bird of prey 
 re-scented a worse than earthly savour in the soul of Saul, an 
 evidence of his death at hand ; or else we may say, the devil 
 knew it by particular revelation ; for God, to use the devil 
 for his own mm, might impart it unto him, to advance 
 wicked men's repute of Satan's power, that they who would 
 be deceived, should be deceived to believe that Satan knows 
 more than he does. 
 
 The dismal news so frightened Saul, that he fell along on the 
 earth, and yet at last is persuaded to arise and eat meat, she 
 killing and dressing a fat calf for him. 
 
 Witches generally are so poor they can scarce feed them- 
 selves ; see here one able to feast a king. That tchich goeth 
 into the mouth dejileth not ; better eat meat of her dressing, 
 than take counsel of her giving ; and her hands might be 
 clean, whose soul meddled with unclean spirits. Saul must 
 eat somewhat, that he might be strengthened to live to be 
 killed, as afterwards it came to pass. And here the mention 
 of this witch in Scripture vanisheth away, and we will follow 
 her no farther. If afterward she escaped the justice of man, 
 God's judgment, without her repentance, hath long since 
 overtaken her. 
 
299 
 
 V. — The Life of Joan of Arc. 
 
 JOAN of Arc was born in a village called Domrenny, upon 
 the marches of Bar, near to Vaucoleurs. Her parents, 
 James of Arc and Isabel, were very poor people, and brought 
 her up to keep sheep ; where, for a while, we will leave her, 
 and come to behold the miserable state of the kingdom of 
 France wherein she lived. 
 
 In her time Charles the Seventh was the distressed French 
 king, having only two entire provinces left him, Gascoigne 
 and Languedoc, and his enemies were about them, and in 
 all the rest, which were possessed by the English, under their 
 young king, Henry the Sixth, and his aged generals, the 
 duke of Bedford, and the earls of Salisbury and Suffolk ; 
 besides, they had besieged the city of Orleans, and brought 
 it to that pass, that the highest hopes of those therein was to 
 yield on good terms. 
 
 Matters standing in this woful case, three French noble- 
 men projected, with themselves, to make a cordial for the 
 consumption of the spirits of their king and countrymen ;* 
 but this seemed a great difficulty to perform, the French peo- 
 ple being so much dejected ; and when men's hearts are once 
 down, it is hard to fasten any pulleys to them to draw them 
 up ; however, they resolved to pitch upon some project out 
 of the ordinary road of accidents, to elevate the people's 
 fancies thereby, knowing that men's fancies easily slip off 
 from smooth and common things, but are quickly catched 
 and longest kept, in such plots as have odd angles, and 
 strange unusual corners in them. 
 
 Hereupon they concluded to set up the aforesaid Joan of 
 Arc, to make her pretend that she had a revelation from hea- 
 ven to be the leader of an army, to drive all tlie English out 
 of France ; and she being a handsome, witty, and bold maid, 
 about twenty years of age, w^as both apprehensive of the plot, 
 and very active to prosecute it. But other authors will not 
 admit of any such complotting, but make her moved there- 
 unto, either of her own, or by some spirit's instigation. 
 
 Gyrard Seigneur du Haillizan, in Charles the Seventh. 
 
300 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 By the mediation of a lord, she is brought to the presence 
 of King Charles, whom she instantly knew, though never 
 seen before, and at that time of set purpose much disguised. 
 This very thing some heighten to a miracle, though others 
 make it fall much beneath a wonder, as being no more than 
 a scholar's ready saying of that lesson which he hath formerly 
 learned without book. To the king she boldly delivers her 
 message, how that this was the time wherein the sins of the 
 English, and the sufferings of the French, were come to the 
 height, and she, appointed by the God of heaven to be the 
 French leader to conquer the English ; if this opportunity 
 were let slip, let them thank Heaven's bounty for the tender, 
 and their own folly for the refusal; and who would pity their 
 eternal slavery who thrust their own liberty from themselves? 
 
 He must be deaf indeed who hears not that spoken which 
 he desires. Charles triumphs at this news ; both his arms 
 were too few to embrace the motion. The fame of her flies 
 through France, and all talk of her, whom the divines esteem 
 as Deborah, the soldiers as Semiramis. People found out 
 a nest of miracles in her education, that so lion-like a spirit 
 should be bred amongst sheep, like David. 
 
 Ever after she went in man's clothes, being armed cap-a- 
 pie, and mounted on a brave steed ; and, which was a won- 
 der, when she was on horseback, none was more bold and 
 daring; when alighted, none more tame and meek;"* so that 
 one could scarce see her for herself, she was so changed and 
 altered, as if her spirits dismounted with her body. No 
 sword would please her but one taken out of the church of 
 St. Katharine in Fierebois in Tourain.f Her first sei-vice 
 was in twice victualling of Orleans, whilst the English made 
 no resistance, as if they had eyes only to gaze, and no arms 
 to fight. 
 
 Hence she sent a menacing letter to the earl of Suffolk,]; 
 the English general, commanding him, in God's and her 
 own name, to yield up the keys of all good cities to her, the 
 virgin sent by God to restore them to the French. The letter 
 
 • Gerson. lib. de Mirab. Victoria cujusdam Puellae, pauld 
 post initium. 
 
 t Polidor. Viig. in Henry the Sixth, p. 471. 
 
 J See the copy thereof, in Speed's King Henry the Sixth, 
 p. 654. 
 
LIFE OF JOAN OF ARC. 301 
 was received with scorn, and the trumpeter that brouglit it 
 commanded to be burnt, against the law of nations, saith a 
 French author,* but erroneously, for his coming was not 
 warranted by the authority of any lawful prince, but from a 
 private maid, how highly soever self-pretended, who had 
 neither estate to keep, nor commission to send a trum- 
 peter. 
 
 Now the minds of the French were all afloat with this the 
 conceit of their new general, which miraculously raised their 
 spirits. Fancy is the castle commanding the city, and if once 
 men's heads be possessed with strange imaginations, the whole 
 body will follow, and be infinitely transported therewithal. 
 Under her conduct, they first drive away the English from 
 Orleans ; nor was she a whit daunted when shot through her 
 arm with an arrow ; but, taking the arrow in one hand, and 
 her sword in another, T/iis is a favour, said she, let us go on, 
 they cannot escape the hand of God ;-\ and she never left off 
 till she had beaten the English from the city. And hence 
 this virago, call her now John or Joan, marched on into other 
 countries, which instantly revolted to the French crown. 
 The example of the first place was the reason of all the rest 
 to submit. The English, in many skirmishes, were worsted 
 and defeated with few numbers. But what shall we say ? 
 when God intends a nation shall be beaten, he ties their 
 hands behind them. 
 
 The French followed their blow, losing no time, lest the 
 height of their spirits should be remitted : men's imaginations, 
 when once on foot, must ever be kept going, like those that 
 go on stilts in fenny countries, lest, standing still, they be in 
 danger of falling; and so keeping the conceit of their soldiers 
 at the height, in one twelvemonth they recovered the greatest 
 part of that the English did possess. 
 
 But success did afterwards fail this she-general ; for seeking 
 to surprise St. Honories' ditch near the city of St. Denis, she 
 was not only wounded herself, but also lost a troop of her 
 best and most resolute soldiers ; and not long after, nigh the 
 city of Compeigne, being too far engaged in fight, was taken 
 prisoner by the Bastard of Vendosme, who sold her to the 
 
 • Du Serres, in his French Hist, translat. byGiimston, p. 326. 
 t Idem, p. 317. 
 
302 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 duke of Bedford, and by him she was kept a prisoner a 
 
 twelvemonth in Rohan. 
 
 It was much disputed amongst the statists what should be 
 done with her ; some held that no punishment was to be in- 
 flicted on her, because 
 
 Nullum memoT^abile nomen 
 Faminen in pana. 
 Cruelty to a woman 
 Brings honour unto no man. 
 
 Besides, putting her to death would render all English- 
 men guilty who should hereafter be taken prisoners by the 
 French. Her former valour deserved praise ; her present mi- 
 sery deserved pity, captivity being no ill action, but ill suc- 
 cess ; let them rather allow her an honourable pension, and so 
 make her valiant deeds their own, by rewarding them. How- 
 ever, she ought not to be put to death ; for if the English 
 would punish her, they could not more disgrace her than 
 with life, to let her live, though in a poor mean way, and 
 then she would be the best confutation of her ovm glorious 
 prophecies ; let them make her the laundress to the English, 
 who was the leader to the French army. 
 
 Against these arguments necessity of state was urged, a 
 reason above all reason, it being in vain to dispute whether 
 that may be done which must be done ; for the French super- 
 stition of her could not be reformed except the idol was de- 
 stroyed ; and it would spoil the French puppet-plays in this 
 nature for ever after, by making her an example. Besides, 
 she was no prisoner of war, but a prisoner of justice, deserving 
 death for her witchcraft and whoredoms ; whereupon she was 
 burnt at Rohan the 6th of July, 1461, not without the asper- 
 sion of cruelty on our nation.* 
 
 Learned men are in a great doubt what to think of her.f 
 Some make her a saint, and mspired by God's Spirit, whereby 
 she discovered strange secrets, and foretold things to come. 
 She had ever an old woman who went with her, and tutored 
 
 * " Sententla post homines natos durissima." — Pol. Vir. p. 
 477. 
 
 t Gerson, in the book which he wrote of her, after lonsf dis- 
 cussinof the point, leaves it uncertaiii, but is rather charitably 
 inclined. 
 
LIFE OF JOAN OF ARC. 303 
 
 her ;* and it is suspicious, seeing this clock could not go with- 
 out that rusty wheel, that these things might be done by con- 
 federacy, though, some more uncharitable, conceive them to 
 be done by Satan himself. 
 
 Two customs she had, which can by no way be defended. 
 One was, her constant going in man's clothes, flatly against 
 Scripture ; yea, mark all the miracles in God's word, wherein, 
 though men's estates be often changed (poor to rich, bond to 
 free, sick to sound, yea, dead to hving), yet we read of no 
 old iEson made young, no woman Iphis turned to a man, 
 or man Tiresias to a woman; but as for their age or sex, 
 where nature places them, there they stand, and miracle it- 
 self will not remove them. Utterly unlawful, therefore, was 
 this Joan's behaviour, as an occasion to lust; and our Eng- 
 lish writers say, that when she was to be condemned, she 
 confessed herself to be with child to prolong her life ;t but 
 being reprieved seven months for the trial thereof, it was 
 found false : but, grant her honest, though she did not burn 
 herself, yet she niight kindle others, and provoke them to 
 wantonness. 
 
 Besides, she shaved her hair in the fashion of a friar,;}; 
 agamst God's express word, it being also a solecism in na- 
 ture, all women being born votaries, and the veil of their 
 long hair minds them of their obedience they naturally owe 
 to man; yea, without this comely ornament of hair, their 
 most glorious beauty appears as deformed as the sun would 
 be prodigious without beams. Herein she had a smack of 
 monkery, which makes all the rest the more suspicious, as 
 being sent to maintain as well the friars as the French crown. 
 And if we survey all the pretended miracles of that age, we 
 shall find, what tune soever they sung, still they had something 
 in the close in the favour of fnars, though brought in as by 
 the by, yet, perchance, chiefly intended, so that the whole 
 sentence was made for the parenthesis. 
 
 We will close the different opinions which several authors 
 have of her, with this epitaph : 
 
 Here lies Joan of Arc, the which 
 
 Some count saint, and some count witch ; 
 
 * Series, p. 325. t Pol. Virgil. \it prius. % Geison. 
 
304 
 
 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 So77ie count man, and sojnethiiig more ; 
 Some count maid, and some a whore : 
 Her life's in question, wrong, or right ; 
 Her death's in doubt, by lav;s, or might. 
 Oh, innocence, take heed o f it, 
 How thou too near to guilt dost sit. 
 (^Meantime, France a wonder saw, 
 A woman I'ule 'gainst Salic law.) 
 But, reader, be content to stay 
 Thy censure, till the judgment day: 
 Then shalt thou know, and not before. 
 Whether saint, witch, man, maid, or whore. 
 
 Some conceive that the English conquests, being come to 
 the vertical point, would have decayed of themselves had this 
 woman never been set up, who now reaps the honour hereof 
 as her action ; though thus a very child may seem to turn the 
 waves of the sea with his breath, if casually blowing on them 
 at that very instant when the tide is to turn of itself. Sure, 
 after her death, the French went on victoriously, and won all 
 from the English, partly by their valour, but more by our 
 dissensions; for then began the cruel wars betwixt the houses 
 of York and Lancaster, till the red rose might become white 
 by losing so much blood, and the white rose red, by shed- 
 ding it. 
 
 HE word atheist is of a very large extent: every poly- 
 
 J- theist is in effect an atheist, for he that multiplies a 
 deity, anniliilates it ; and he that divides it, destroys it. 
 
 But amongst the heathen, we may observe, that whosoever 
 sought to w ithdraw people from their idolatry, was presently 
 indited and arraigned of atheism. If any philosopher saw 
 God through their gods, this dust was cast in his eyes, for 
 being more quicksighted than others, that presently he was 
 condemned for an atheist ; and thus Socrates, the pagan 
 martyr, was put to death "ABtog.^ At this day, three 
 sorts of atheists are extant in the world : 
 
 1. In life and conversation (Psalm x. 4), God is not in 
 
 VI. — The Atheist. 
 
 Juslin. Martyr, Secund. Apolog. pro Christian, p. 56. 
 
THE ATHEIST. 305 
 all his thoughts; not that he thinks there is no God, but 
 thinks not there is a God, never minding or heeding him 
 in the whole course of his Ufe and actions. 
 
 2. In will and desire. Such could wish there were no 
 God or devil ; as thieves would have no judge nor gaoler : 
 Quod metuunt periisse expetunt. 
 
 3. In judgment and opinion. Of the former two sorts 
 of atheists, there are more in the world than are generally 
 thought ; of this latter, more are thought to be than there 
 are, a contemplative atheist being very rare, such as were 
 Diagoras, Protagoras, Lucian, and Theodorus,* who, 
 though carrying God in his name, was an atheist in his 
 opinion. Come we to see by what degrees a man may 
 climb up to this height of profaneness. And we will sup- 
 pose him to be one living in wealth and prosperity, which 
 more disposeth men to atheism than adversity ; for affliction 
 mindeth men of a Deity, as those who are pinched will 
 cry, Lord: but much outward happiness abused, occa- 
 sioneth men, as wise Agur observeth, to deny God, and 
 say, Who is the Lord? 
 
 1. First he quarrels at the diversities of religions in the 
 world: complaining how great clerks dissent in their judg- 
 ments, which makes him sceptical in all opinions : whereas, 
 such differences should not make men careless to have any, 
 but careful to have the best religion. 
 
 2. He loveth to maintain paradoxes, and to shut his eyes 
 against the beams of a known truth ; not only for discourse, 
 which might be permitted : for as no cloth can be woven ex- 
 cept the woof and the warp be cast cross one to another, so 
 discourse will not be maintained without some opposition for 
 the time. But our inclining atheist goes further, engaging 
 his affections in disputes, even in such matters where the sup- 
 posing them wounds piety, but the positive maintaining them 
 stabs it to the heart. 
 
 3. He scoffs and makes sport at sacred things. This, by 
 degrees, abates the reverence of religion, and ulcers men's 
 hearts with profaneness. The popish proverb, well under- 
 
 * August, torn. vii. lib. 3, contra Petilianum, c. i. David cum 
 dicit, " Stultus dixit in corde," &c. videtur Diagoram praedixisse. 
 
 X 
 
 I 
 
306 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 stood, hath a truth in it, Never dog barked against the cru- 
 cifix^ hut he ran mad. 
 
 4. Hence he proceeds to take exception at God's word. 
 He keeps a register of many difficult places of Scripture, not 
 that he desires satisfaction therein, but delights to puzzle di- 
 vines therewith, and counts it a great conquest when he hath 
 posed them. Unnecessary questions out of the Bible are his 
 most necessary study ; and he is more curious to know where 
 Lazarus' soul was the four days he lay in the grave, than 
 careful to provide for his own soul when he shall be dead. 
 Thus is it just with God, that they who will not feed on the 
 plain meat of his word, should be choked with the bones 
 thereof. But his principal dehght is to sound the alarum, 
 and to set several places of Scripture to tight one against 
 another, betwixt which there is a seeming, and he would 
 make a real contradiction. 
 
 5. Afterwards he grows so impudent as to deny the Scrip- 
 ture itself. As Samson being fastened by a web to a pin, 
 carried away both web and pin ; so if any urge our atheist 
 with arguments from Scripture, and tie him to the authority 
 of God's word, he denies both reason and God's word, to 
 which the reason is fastened. 
 
 6. Hence he proceeds to deny God himself. First, in his 
 administration, then in his essence. What else could be ex- 
 pected, but that he should bite at last who had snarled so 
 long? First, he denies God's ordering of sublunary matters ; 
 Tush, doth the Lord see, or is there knowledge in the Most 
 Highest? making him a maimed deity, without an eye of pro- 
 videncCj or an arm of power, and, at most, restraining him 
 only to matters above the clouds. But he that dares to con- 
 fine the King of heaven, will soon after endeavour to depose 
 him, and fall at last flatly to deny him. 
 
 7. HeJ'uniisheth himself with an armoury of arguments to 
 fight against his own conscience ; some taken from 
 
 1. The impunity and outward happiness of wicked men ; 
 as the heathen poet, whose verses for me shall pass un- 
 englished. 
 
 Esse Deos creddmne? fidemjuruta fefellit, 
 Et fades illi, quafuit ante, manet.*. 
 
 * Ovid, lib. 3, Amor. Eleg. 3. 
 
THE ATHEIST. 307 
 And no wonder if an atheist breaks his neck thereat, whereat 
 the foot of David himself did almost slip,* when he saw 
 the prosperity of the wicked ; whom God only reprieves for 
 punishment hereafter. 
 
 2. From the afflictions of the godly, whilst indeed God 
 only tries their faith and patience. As Absalom com- 
 plained of his father David's government, that none were 
 deputed to redress people's grievances, so he objects that 
 none righteth the wrongs of God's people, and thinks, 
 proud dust! the world would be better steered if he wese 
 the pilot tliereof. 
 
 3. From the delaying of the day of judgment with those 
 mockers (2 Peter iii.), whose objections the apostle fully 
 answereth. And m regard of his own particular, the athe- 
 ist hath as little cause to rejoice at the deferring of the day 
 of judgment, as the thief hath reason to be glad that the 
 assizes be put off who is to be tried, and may be executed 
 before, at the quarter sessions : so death may take oiu: 
 atheist off before the day of judgment come. 
 
 With these, and other arguments, he struggles with his 
 own conscience, and long in vain seeks to conquer it, even 
 fearing that Deity he flouts at, and dreading that God whom 
 he denies. And as that famous Athenian soldier, Cynegirus,t 
 catching hold of one of the enemy's ships, held it, first with 
 his right hand, and when that was cut off, with his left, and 
 when both were cut off, yet still kept it with his teeth ; so the 
 conscience of our atheist, though he bruise it, and beat it, and 
 maim, it never so much, still keeps him by the teeth, still feed- 
 ing and gnawing upon him, torturing and tormenting him 
 with thoughts of a Deity, which the other desires to sup- 
 press. 
 
 8. At last he himself is utterly overthrown by conquering 
 his own conscience. God, injustice, takes from him the light 
 which he thrust from himself, and delivers him up to a seared 
 conscience and a reprobate mind, whereby hell takes posses- 
 sion of him. The apostle saith (Acts xvii. 27), that a man 
 may feel God in his works : but now our atheist hath a dead 
 palsy, is past all sense, and cannot perceive God who is every- 
 where presented unto him. It is most strange, yet most true,. 
 
 * Psalm Ixxlii. 2, 3. 
 
 t Justin, lib. 2. 
 
308 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 which is reported, that the arms of the duke of Rohan, France, 
 which are fusils or lozenges, are to be seen in the wood or 
 stones throughout all his country, so that break a stone in the 
 middle, or lop a bough of a tree, and one shall behold the 
 grain thereof, by some secret cause in nature, diamonded or 
 streaked in the fashion of a lozenge ;* yea, the very same in 
 effect is observed in England : for the resemblances of stars, 
 the arms of the worshipful family of the Shugburys in War- 
 wickshire, are found in the stones within their own manor of 
 Shugbury.f But what shall we say ? The arms of the God 
 of heaven, namely, power, wisdom, and goodness, are to be 
 seen in every creature in the world, even from worms to men, 
 and yet our atheist will not acknowledge them, but ascribes 
 them either to chance (but could a blind painter limn such 
 curious pictures ?) or else to nature, which is a mere sleight of 
 the devil to conceal God from men, by calling him after an- 
 other name, for what is natura naturans but God himself? 
 
 9. His death commonly is most miserable ; either burnt, as 
 Diagoras, or eaten up with lice, as Pherecydes ;t or devoured 
 by dogs, as Lucian ; or thunder-shot, and turned to ashes, as 
 Olympius. However, descending impenitent into hell, there 
 he is atheist no longer, but hath as much religion as the devil, 
 to confess God and tremble: 
 
 Nullus in inferno est atheos, ante fuit. 
 
 On earth were atheists many, 
 
 In hell there is not any. 
 All speak truth when they are on the rack, but it is a woful 
 thing to be hell's convert. And there we leave the atheist, 
 having dwelt the longer on his character, because that speech 
 of worthy Mr. Greenham§ deserves to be heeded. That athe- 
 ism in England is more to be feared than popery. 
 
 To give an instance of a speculative atheist, is both hard 
 and dangerous. Hard ; for we cannot see men's speculations 
 otherwise than as they clothe themselves visible in their ac- 
 tions, some atheistical speeches being not sufficient evidence 
 to convict the speaker an atheist. Dangerous ; for what satis- 
 
 * Because of these natural forms in wood and stone, it seems 
 that from thence the dukes assumed their arms. 
 
 + Cambd. Brit, in Warwickshire. | Paul. Diacon. lib. 15. 
 j In his Grave Counsel, p. 3. 
 
LIFE OF CMSAR BORGIA. 309 
 faction can I make to their memories, if I challenge any of 
 so foul a crime wrongfully ? We may more safely insist on 
 an atheist in life and conversation ; and such a one was he 
 whom we come to describe. 
 
 VII. — The Life of Caesar Borgia. 
 
 C^SAR Borgia was base son to Roderick Borgia, other- 
 wise called Pope Alexander the Sixth. This Alexander 
 was the first of the popes who openly owned his bastards ;* 
 and whereas his predecessors (counting fig-leaves better than 
 nothing to cover their nakedness) disguised them under the 
 names of nephews and godsons, he was such a savage in his 
 lust, as nakedly to acknowledge his base children, and espe- 
 cially this Caesar Borgia, being like his father in the swarthi- 
 ness of the complexion of his soul. 
 
 His father first made him a cardinal, that thereby his 
 shoulders might be enabled to bear as much church-prefer- 
 ment as he could load upon him. But Borgia's active spirit 
 disliked the profession, and was ashamed of the gospel, which 
 had more cause to be ashamed of him : wherefore he quickly 
 got a dispensation to uncardinal himself. 
 
 The next hinderance that troubled his high designs was, 
 that his elder brother, the duke of Candia, stood betwixt him 
 and preferment. It is reported also that these two brothers 
 jostled together in their incest with their own sister Lucretia,t 
 one as famous for her whoredoms, as her namesake had for- 
 merly been for her chastity.]: The throne and the bed can- 
 not severally abide partners, much less both meeting together 
 as here they did. Wherefore Csesar Borgia took order, that 
 his brother was killed one night as he rode alone in the city 
 of Rome, and his body cast into Tiber ; and now he himself 
 stood without competitor in his father's and sister's affec- 
 tion. 
 
 His father was infinitely ambitious to advance him, as in- 
 tending not only to create him a duke, but also to create a 
 dukedom for him, which seemed very difficult, if not impos- 
 sible ; for he could neither lengthen the land, nor lessen the 
 sea in Italy ; and petty princes therein were already crowded 
 
 * Guicciard, History of Italy, lib. 1. p. 10. 
 t Idem, lib. 3. p. 179. $ Liv. lib. 1. 
 
310 THE PROFAXE STATE. 
 
 so thick, there was not room for any more. However, the 
 
 pope, by fomenting the discords betwixt the French and 
 
 Spanish about the kingdom of Naples, and by embroiUng all 
 
 the Italian states in civil dissensions, out of their breaches 
 
 picked forth a large principality for his son, managed in this 
 
 manner. 
 
 There is a fair and fruitful province in Italy, called Ro- 
 mania, parcelled into several states, all holding as feodaries 
 from the pope, but by small pensions, and those seldom 
 paid. They were bound also not to serve in arms against the 
 church, which old tie they little regarded, and less observed, 
 as concei\'ing time had fretted it asunder ; soldiers generally 
 more weighing his gold that entertaineth them, than the cause 
 or enemy against whom they fight. Pope Alexander set his 
 son Borgia to reduce that country to the church's jurisdiction, 
 but indeed to subject it to his own absolute hereditary domi- 
 nion. This in short time he effected,* partly by the assistance 
 of the French king, whose pensioner he was (and by a French 
 title made Duke ^'alentinois), and partly by the effectual aid 
 of the Ursines, a potent family in Italy. 
 
 But afterward the Ursines, too late, were sensible of their 
 error herein, and grew suspicious of his greatness. For they, 
 in helping him to conquer so many petty states, gathered the 
 several twigs, bound them into a rod, and put it into his 
 hands to beat them therewith. Whereupon they began by 
 degrees to withdraw their help, which Borgia perceived, and 
 lla^-ing by flattery and fair promises got the principal of their 
 family into his hands, he put them all to the swwd.f For he 
 was perfect in the devilish art of dealing an ill turn, doing it 
 so suddenly his enemies should not hear of him before ; and 
 so soundly, that he should never hear of them afterwards, either 
 striking always surely, or not at all. 
 
 And now he thought to cast away his crutches, and stand 
 on his own legs, rendering himself absolute, without being 
 beholden to the French king or any other : having wholly 
 conquered Romania he cast his eyes on Etruria, and therein 
 either won to submission or compliance most of the cities, an 
 earnest of his future final conquest, had not the unexpected 
 death of his father Pope Alexander prevented him. 
 
 * Guicciard. lib. 4. p. 237. t Machiavel, in his Prince, c. 7. 
 
LIFE OF C/ESAR BORGIA. 311 
 
 This Alexander with his son, C«sar Borgia, intended to 
 poison some rich cardinals, to which purpose a flagon of 
 poisoned wine was prepared : but through the error of a ser- 
 vant, not privy to the project, the pope himself and Borgia, 
 his son, drank thereof, which cost the former his life, and the 
 other a long languishing sickness.* 
 
 This Csesar Borgia once bragged to Machiavel, that he had 
 so cunningly contrived his plots, as to warrant himself against 
 all events. If his father should die first, he had made him- 
 self master of such a way, that by the strength of his party 
 in the city of Rome, and conclave of cardinals, he could choose 
 what pope he pleased ; so from him to get assurance of this 
 province of Romania to make it hereditary to himself. 
 And if, which was improbable, nature should cross her hands, 
 so that he should die before his father, yet even then he had 
 chalked out such a course as would ensure his conquest to 
 his posterity : so that with this politic dilemma he thought 
 himself able to dispute against Heaven itself. 
 
 But, what he afterwards complained of, he never expected, 
 that at the same time wherein his father should die, he him- 
 self should also lie desperately sick, disenabled to prosecute 
 his designs, till one unexpected counterblast of fortune ruf- 
 fled, yea blew away all his projects so curiously plaited. Thus 
 three aces chance often not to rub ; and politicians think 
 themselves to have stopped every small cranny, when they 
 have left a whole door open for divine Providence to undo 
 all which they have done. 
 
 The cardinals proceed to the choice of a new pope, whilst 
 Borgia lay sick abed, much bemoaning himself ; for all others, 
 had they the command of all April showers, could not be- 
 stow one drop of pity upon him. Pius the Third was first 
 chosen pope, answering his name, being a devout man (such 
 black swans seldom swim in Tiber) ; but the chair of pesti- 
 lence choked him within twenty-six days, and in his room 
 Julius was chosen, or rather his greatness chose himself, a 
 sworn enemy to Caesar Borgia, who still lay under the phy- 
 sician's hands, and had no power to oppose the election, or 
 to strengthen his new-got dukedom of Romania : the state of 
 his body was to be preferred before the body of his state ; 
 
 * Guicciard. 1. 6. p. 307. 
 
312 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 and he lay striving to keep life, not to make a pope. Yea, 
 the operation of this poison made him vomit up the duke- 
 dom of Romania, which he had swallowed before ; and whilst 
 he lay sick, the states and cities therein recovered their own 
 liberties formerly enjoyed. 
 
 Indeed, this disease made Borgia lose his nails, that he 
 could never after scratch to do any mischief ; and being ba- 
 nished Italy, he fled into Navarre, where he was obscurely 
 killed in a tumultuous insurrection. 
 
 He was a man master in the art of dissembling, never looking 
 the same way he rowed ; extremely lustful, never sparing to 
 tread hen and chickens. At the taking of Capua, where he as- 
 sisted the French, he reserved forty of the fairest ladies to be 
 abused by his own wantonness.* And the prodigality of his 
 lust had, long before his death, made him bankrupt of all the 
 moisture in his body, if his physicians had not daily repaired 
 the decays therein. He exactly knew the operations of all 
 hot and cold poisons ; which would surprise nature on a sud- 
 den, and which would weary it out with a long siege. He 
 could contract a hundred toads into one drop, and cunningly 
 infuse the same into any pleasant liquor, as the Italians have 
 poisoning at their finger ends. By a fig, which restored He- 
 zekiah's life,-f he took away the lives of many. In a word, 
 if he was not a practical atheist, I know not who was. 
 
 If any desire to know more of his badness, let them read 
 Machiavel's Prince, where Borgia is brought in as an instance 
 of all villany.]: And though he deserves to be hissed out of 
 Christendom, who will open his mouth in the defence of 
 Machiavel's precepts, yet some have dared to defend his per- 
 son ; so that he, in his book, shews not what princes should 
 be, but what then they were ; intending that work, not for a 
 glass for future kings to dress themselves by, but only therein 
 to present the monstrous face of the politicians of that age. 
 Sure, he who is a devil in this book is a saint in all the rest ;§ 
 and those that knew him, witness him to be of honest life and 
 
 * Guicciard. lib. 5. p. 260. 
 + 2 Kings XX. 7. 
 
 i " Xunquam verebor in exemplum Valentinum subjicere." — 
 Machiavel Prince, cap. 13. p. 73. 
 
 $ His Notes on Livy, but especially his Florentine History, 
 savours of religion. 
 
THE HYPOCRITE. 313 
 manners :* so that that which hath sharpened the pens of many 
 against him, is his giving so many cleanly wipes to the foul 
 noses of the pope and Italian prelacy. 
 
 VIII. — The Hypocrite, 
 
 BY hypocrite, we understand such a one as doth (Isaiah 
 xxxii. 6.) practise hypocrisy, make a trade or work of 
 dissembling : for otherwise, hypocriseorum macula carere, aut 
 paucorwn est, aut nullorum.\ The best of God's children 
 have a smack of hypocrisy. 
 
 1. A hypocrite is himself both the archer and the mark, 
 in all actions shooting at his own praise or profit. And there- 
 fore he doth all things that they may be seen : what with 
 others is held a principal point in law is his main maxim 
 in divinity, to have good witness. Even fasting itself is 
 meat and drink to him, whilst others behold it. 
 
 2. In the outside of religion he outshines a sincere Chris- 
 tian. Gilt cups glitter more than those of massy gold, which 
 are seldom burnished. Yea, well may the hypocrite afford 
 gaudy facing, who cares not for any lining ; brave it in the 
 shop, that hath nothing in the warehouse. Nor is it a wonder 
 if in outward service lie outstrips God's servants, who out- 
 doeth God's command by will-worship, giving God more 
 than he requires ; though not what most he requires, I mean 
 his heart. 
 
 3. His vizard is commonly plucked off" in this world. Sin- 
 cerity is an entire thing in itself: hypocrisy consists of several 
 pieces cunningly closed together; and sometimes the hypo- 
 crite is smote (as Ahab with an arrow, 1 Kings xxii. 34.) 
 betwixt the joints of his armour, and so is mortally wounded 
 in his reputation. Now by these shrewd signs a dissembler 
 is often discovered : first, heavy censuring of others for light 
 faults : secondly, boasting of his own goodness : thirdly, the 
 unequal beating of his pulse in matters of pieties — hard, strong, 
 and quick in public actions ; weak, soft, and dull in private 
 matters : fourthly, shrinking in persecution ; for painted faces 
 cannot abide to come nigh the fire. 
 
 * Boissardus, part 3. Iconura Virorum lUustrium. 
 t Hieronym. lib. 2. contra Pelag. et August in eadem verba, 
 Sevm. 59. de Tempore. 
 
314 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 4. Yet sometimes he goes to the grave neither detected nor 
 suspected: if masters in their art, and living in peaceable 
 times, ^Yherein piet^- and prosperit\^ do not fall out, but agree 
 well together. Maud, mother to King Henrj- the Second, 
 being besieged in Winchester Castle,* counterfeited herself to 
 be dead, and so was carried out in a coffin, whereby she es- 
 caped. Another time being: besieged at Oxford in a cold 
 winter,! with wearing white apparel, she got away in the 
 snow undiscovered. Thus some hypocrites by dissembling 
 mortification, that they are dead to the world, and by pro- 
 fessing a snow-like purity in their conversations, escape all 
 their lifetime undiscerned by mortal eyes. 
 
 6. By long dissembling piety he deceives himself at last : 
 yea, he may grow so infatuated as to conceive himself no dis- 
 sembler, but a sincere saint. A scholar was so possessed with 
 his lively personating of King Richard the Third, in a college 
 comedy, that ever after he was transported with a royal 
 humour in his large expenses, which brought him to beggary, 
 though he had great preferment. Thus the hypocrite, by 
 long acting the part of piety, at least beheves himself really 
 to be such an one whom at first he did but counterfeit. 
 
 6. God here knows, and hereafter rvill make hypocrites 
 known to the whole world. Ottocar, king of Bohemia, refused 
 to do homage to Rodulphus the First, emperor, till at last, 
 chastised with war, he was content to do him homage privately 
 in a tent ; which tent was so contrived by the emperor's ser- 
 vants,:J: that by drawing one cord, it was all taken away, and 
 so Ottocar presented on his knees doing his homage, to the 
 view of three armies in presence. Thus God at last shall un- 
 case the closest dissembler to the sight of men, angels, and 
 devils, having removed all veils and pretences of piety; no 
 goat in a sheepskin shall steal on his right hand at the last 
 day of judgment. 
 
 IX. — The Life of Jehu. 
 
 JEHU, the son of Jehoshaphat, the son of Nimshi, was one 
 of an active spirit, and therefore employed to confound 
 the house of Ahab; for God, when he means to shave clear, 
 
 * Cambd. Brit, in Hampshire. 
 
 t Matth. Paris, in Anno Dom. 1141. 
 
 i Pantaleon, in Vita Rodulph. Imperat. lib. de Illustrib. Germ, 
 part 2. 285. 
 
THE LIFE OF JEHU. 315 
 
 chooses a razor with a sharp edge, and never sendeth a slug 
 on a message that requireth haste. 
 
 A son of the prophets, sent by Elisha, privately anointed 
 him king at Ramoth-Gilead, whereupon he was proclaimed 
 king by the consent of the army. Surely God sent also an 
 invisible messenger to the souls of his fellow-captains, and 
 anointed their hearts with the oil of subjection, as he did 
 Jehu's head with the oil of sovereignty. 
 
 Secrecy and celerity are the two wheels of great actions. 
 Jehu had both : he marched to Jezreel faster than fame 
 could tly, v/hose wings he had dipt by stopping all intelli- 
 gence, that so at once he might be seen and felt of his enemies. 
 In the way, meeting with Jehoram and Ahaziah, he conjoined 
 them in their deaths, who consorted together in idolatry. 
 The corpse of Jehoram he orders to be cast into Naboth's 
 vineyard, a garden of herbs royally dunged, and watered with 
 blood. 
 
 Next he revengeth God's prophets on cruel Jezebel, whose 
 wicked carcase was devoured by dogs to a small reversion, as 
 if a head that plotted, and hands that practised so much mis- 
 chief, and feet so swift to shed blood, were not meat good 
 enough for dogs to eat. Then by a letter he commands the 
 heads of Ahab's seventy sons, their guardians turning their 
 executioners, whose heads being laid on two heaps at the gate 
 of Jezreel served for two soft pillows for Jehu to sleep 
 sweetly upon, having all these co-rivals to the crown taken 
 away. 
 
 The priests of Baal follow after. With a pretty wile he 
 fetches them all into the temple of their idol, where, having 
 ended their sacrifice, they themselves were sacrificed. How- 
 ever, I dare not acquit Jehu herein. In holy fraud I like 
 the Christian, but not the sirname thereof, and w^onder how 
 any can marry these two together in the same action, seeing 
 surely the parties were never agreed. This I dare say, be it 
 unjust in Jehu, it was just with God, that the worshippers of 
 a false God should be deceived with a feigned worship. 
 
 Hitherto I like Jehu as well as Josiah : his zeal blazed as 
 much. But having now got the crown, he discovers himself 
 a dissembling hypocrite. It was an ill sign when he said to 
 Jehonadab the son of Rechab, Coine ivith me, and see my zeal 
 for the Lord ; bad inviting guests to feed their eyes on our good- 
 
316 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 ness. But hypocrites, rather than they will lose a drop of 
 
 praise, will lick it up with their own tongue. 
 
 Before, he had dissembled with Baal, now he counterfeits 
 with God. He took no heed to walk in the way of the Lord 
 God of Israel with all his heart : formerly his sword had 
 two edges, one cut for God's glory, the other for his own pre- 
 ferment. He that before drove so furiously, whilst his pri- 
 vate ends whipt on his horses, now will not go a foot pace 
 in God's commandments : He departed not from the golden 
 calves in Dan and Bethel. 
 
 I know what flesh will object, that this state-sin Jehu must 
 commit to maintain his kingdom : for the lions of gold did 
 support the throne of Solomon, but the calves of gold the 
 throne of Jeroboam and his successors. Should he suffer his 
 subjects to go up to Jerusalem thrice a year as the law of 
 Moses commanded,* this would unking hira in effect, as 
 leaving him no able subjects to command. And as one in 
 the heathen poet complains, 
 
 Tres swnus imbelles numero, sine viribus uxor, 
 Luertesque senex^ Telemachusque puer. 
 
 Three weaklings we, a wife for war too mild, 
 Laertes old, Telemachus a child. 
 
 So thrice a year should Jehu only be king over such an im- 
 potent company of old men, women and children. Besides, it 
 was to be feared that the ten tribes going to Jerusalem to wor- 
 ship, where they fetched their God, would also have their king. 
 
 But faith will answer, that God that built Jehu's throne 
 without hands, could support it without buttresses, or being 
 beholden to idolatry ; and therefore herein Jehu, who would 
 needs piece out God's providence with his own carnal policy, 
 was like a foolish greedy gamester, who having all the game 
 in his own hand, steals a needless card to assure himself of 
 winning the stake, and thereby loses all. For Jthis deep 
 diver was drowned in his own policy, and Hazael, king of 
 Syria was raised up by God to trouble and molest them. 
 Yet God rewarded hira with a lease of the kingdom of four 
 successive lives, who, had he been sincere, w^ould have assured 
 him of a crown here and hereafter. 
 
 * Exod. xxxiv. 23. 
 
317 
 
 X. — The Heretic. 
 
 IT is very difficult accurately to define him. Amongst the 
 heathen atheiat was, and amongst Christians heretic is 
 the disgraceful word of course, always cast upon those who 
 dissent from the predominant current of the time. Thus 
 those who in matters of opinion varied from the popq's copy 
 the least hair-stroke, are condemned for heretics.* Yea, 
 Virgilius, bishop of Saltzburg, was branded with that censure 
 for maintaining that there were antipodes opposite to the then 
 known world. f It may be, as Alexander, hearing the philo- 
 sophers dispute of more worlds, w^ept that he had conquered 
 no part of them ; so it grieved the pope that these antipodes 
 were not subject to his jurisdiction, which much incensed his 
 holiness against that strange opinion. We will branch the 
 description of a heretic into these three parts : 
 
 1. He is one that formerly hath been of the true church. 
 They went out from us, hut they were not of us.X These 
 afterwards prove more offensive to the church than very 
 pagans ; as the English-Irish, descended anciently of Eng- 
 lish parentage (be it spoken with the more shame to them 
 and sorrow to us), turning wild, become worse enemies to 
 our nation than the native Irish themselves. 
 
 2. Maintaining a fundamental error. Every scratch in 
 the hand is not a stab to the heart; nor doth every false 
 opinion make a heretic. 
 
 3. With obstinacy : which is the dead flesh, making 
 the green wound of an error fester into the old sore of a 
 heresy. 
 
 1. It matters not much what manner of person he hath . 
 If beautiful, perchance, the more attractive of feminine fol- 
 lowers : if deformed, so that his body is as odd as his opinions, 
 he is the more properly entitled to the reputation of crooked 
 saint. 
 
 2. His natural parts are quick and able. Yet he that shall 
 ride on a vtinged horse to tell him thereof, shall but come too 
 
 * " Hie videtur quod omnis qui non obedit statutis Romana? 
 sedis sit Hajreticus." — Glossa in C. nulli dist. 19. in verbo 
 Prostratus. 
 
 t Job. Avent. lib. 3. Annal, Boior. % 1 John ii. 19. 
 
318 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 late, to bring him stale news of what he knew too well be- 
 fore. 
 
 3. Learning is necessary in him if he trades in a critical 
 enror; but if he only broaches dregs, and deals in some dull 
 sottish opinion, a trowel will serve as well as a pencil to daub 
 on such thick coarse colours. Yea, in some heresies deep 
 studying is so useless, that the first thing they learn, is to 
 inveigh against all learning. 
 
 4. However some smattering in the original tongues will 
 do well. On occasion he will let fly whole volleys of Greek 
 and Hebrew words, whereby he not only amazeth his ignorant 
 auditors, but also in conferences daunteth many of its oppo- 
 sers, who, though in all other learning far his superiors, may 
 perchance be conscious of want of skill in those languages, 
 whilst the heretic hereby gains credit to his cause and 
 person. 
 
 5. His behaviour is seemingly very pious and devout. How 
 foul soever the postern and back door be, the gate opening to 
 the street is swept and garnished, and his outside adorned 
 with pretended austerity. 
 
 6. He is extremely proud and discontented with the times, 
 quarrelling that many beneath him in piety are above him in 
 place. This pride hath caused many men, who otherwise 
 might have been shining lights, prove smoking firebrands in 
 the church. 
 
 7. Having first hammered the heresy in himself, he then 
 falls to the seducing of others : so hard it is for one to have 
 the itch, and not to scratch. Yea, Babylon herself will 
 allege, that /or Sions sake she icill not hold her peace. The 
 necessity of propagating the truth is error's plea, to divulge 
 her falsehoods. Men, as naturally they desire to know, so 
 they desire what they know should be known. 
 
 8. If challenged to a private dispute, his impudence bears 
 him out. He counts it the only error to confess he hath 
 erred. His face is of brass, which may be said either ever or 
 never to blush. In disputing, his,.77iodus is sine modo ; and, as 
 if all figures, even in logic, were magical, he neglects all forms 
 of reasoning, counting that the only syllogism which is his 
 conclusion, 
 
 9. He slights any synod if condemning his opinions ; esteem- 
 ing the decisions thereof no more than the forfeits in a barber's 
 
THE HERETIC. 319 
 shop, where a gentleman's pleasure is all the obligation to 
 pay, and none are bound except they will bind themselves. 
 
 10. Sometimes he comes to be put to death for his obsti- 
 nacy. Indeed some charitable divines have counted it incon- 
 sistent with the lenity of the gospel, which is to expect and 
 endeavour the amendment of all, to put any to death for their 
 false opinions ; and we read of St. Paul (though the papists 
 paint him always with a sword) that he only came with a rod. 
 However, the mildest authors allow, that the magistrate may 
 inflict capital punishments on heretics ;* in cases of 
 
 1. Sedition against the state wherein he lives. And 
 indeed such is the sympathy betwixt church and common- 
 wealth, that there are few heresies, except they be purely 
 speculative, and so I may say have heads without hands, 
 or any practical influence, but in time the violent main- 
 tainers of them may make a dangerous impression in the 
 state. 
 
 2. Blasphemy against God, and those points of religion 
 which are awfully to be believed. 
 
 For either of these our heretic sometimes willingly under- 
 goes death, and then, in the calendar of his own conceit, he 
 canonizeth himself for a saint, yea, a martyr. 
 
 XI. — The Rigid Donatists. 
 
 THE Donatists were so called from a double Donatus,f 
 whereof the one planted the sect, the other watered it ; 
 and the devil, by God's permission, gave the increase. The 
 elder Donatus being one of tolerable parts, and intolerable 
 pride, raised a schism in Carthage against good Cecilian, the 
 bishop there, whom he loaded unjustly with many crimes 
 which he was not able to prove ; and, vexed with this dis- 
 grace, he thought to right his credit by wronging religion, 
 and so began the heresy of Donatists. f 
 
 His most dominative tenet was, that the church was perished 
 from the face of the earth, the relics thereof only remaining in 
 his party. I instance the rather on this heresy, because the 
 reviving thereof is the new disease of our times. One Vibius 
 
 * Gerard's Common-places de Magistrat. Polit. p. 1047. 
 t Anno Domini 331. % Augustin. ad quod vult Deuin, 
 
320 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 in Rome was so like unto Pompey, ut permutato statu Pom- 
 peius in illo, et ille in Pompeio, salutari possit.* Thus the 
 Anabaptists of our days, and such as are anabaptistically in- 
 clined, in all particulars resemble the old Donatists, abating 
 only that difference which is necessarily required to make 
 them alike. 
 
 The epithet of rigid I therefore do add, to separate the Do- 
 natists from themselves, who separated themselves from all 
 other Christians. For there were two principal sides of them : 
 first, the Rogatists, from Rogatus their teacher, to whom St. 
 Augustine beareth witness, that thei/ had zeal, but not accord- 
 ing to knowledge. Tliese were pious people for their lives, 
 hating bloody practices, though erroneous in their doctrine. 
 The learned fathers of that agef count them part of the true 
 church and their brethren, though they themselves disclaimed 
 any such brotherhood with other Christians. Oh, the sacred 
 violence of such worthy men's charity, in plucking those to 
 them which thrust themselves away ! But there was another 
 sort of Jesuited Donatists, as I may say, whom they called 
 Circumcellions, though as little reason can be given of their 
 name as of their opinions^ij; whom we principally intend at 
 this time. 
 
 Their number in short time grew not only to be considera- 
 ble, but terrible : their tenet was plausible and winning; and 
 that faith is easily wrought w^hich teacheth men to believe 
 well of themselves. From Numidia, where they beg-an, they 
 overspread Africa, Spain, France, Italy, and Rome itself. 
 We find not any in Britain, where Pelagianism mightily 
 reigned :§ either because God, in his goodness, would not 
 have one country at the same time visited with a double 
 plague; or else because this infection was to come to this 
 island in after ages, furbished up under a new name. 
 
 Their greatest increase was under Julian the emperor. 
 
 * Valer. Max. lib. 9. cap. 15. 
 
 t " Tpsum Fraternitatis nomen utcunque Donatistis fastidio- 
 sum, est tamen orthodoxis erga ipsos Donatistas necessarium." — 
 Optat. lib. 3. init. 
 
 t St. August, in Psal. 132. " Quia circuni cellas vagantur;" 
 " count them so called;" which is rather his allusion than the 
 true etymology. 
 
 § Sir H. Spelman, Counsels, p. 446. 
 
THE RIGID DONATISTS. 321 
 This apostate, next to no religion, loved the worst religion 
 best, and was a professed friend to all foes of goodness. The 
 Donatists, being punished under former Christian emperors, 
 repaired to him for succour, not caring whether it was an 
 olive or a bramble they fled to, so be it afforded them shelter. 
 They extolled him for such a godly man (flattery and false 
 doctrine go ever together) with whom alone justice did re- 
 main ;* and he restored them their good churches again, and 
 armed them with many privileges against Christians. Here- 
 upon they raised a cruel persecution, killing many men in 
 the very churches, murdering women and infants, defiling 
 virgins, or ravishing them rather, for consent only defiles. 
 God keep us from standing in the way where blind zeal is to 
 pass, for it will trample down all before it, and mercy shall 
 as soon be found at the hands of prevailing cowards ! What 
 the anabaptists did in Germany, we know ; what they would 
 do here had they power, God knows. The best security we 
 have they will do no harm, is because they cannot. 
 
 We come to set down some of their principal opinions : 1 
 say, principal ; for at last they did interfere with all heretics, 
 Arians, Macedonians, &c.; ignorant zeal is too blind to go 
 right, and too active to stand still : yea, all errors are of kin, 
 at the farthest but cousins once removed ; and when men 
 have once left the truth, their only quiet home, they will take 
 up their lodging under any opinion which hath the least 
 shadow of probability. We will also set down some of their 
 reasons, and how they torture Scripture with violent interpre- 
 tations, to wrest fi-om it a confession on their side, yet all in 
 vain. 
 
 First Position. — That the true church was perished from 
 the face of the earth, the remnants thereof being on\y in parte 
 Donaii, in that part of Africa where Donatus and his fol- 
 lowers were.f The Anabaptists, in like manner, stifle God's 
 church by crowding it into their corner, confining the mon- 
 archy of Christ in the gospel unto their own toparchy, and 
 having a quarrel to the words in the creed, catholic church. 
 
 The Donatists' Reasons. — It is said. Canticles i. 7. I'ell 
 
 * " Quod apud euin solum jiist)tia locum haberet." — Aug, 
 contra Literas Petil. lib. 2. cap. 97. 
 
 t August, lib. 2 contra Crescon. cap. 37. 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 me, thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where 
 
 thou makest thy flocks to rest in the south. By this the 
 
 Donatists are meant : Africa, wherein they Hved, was in the 
 
 south. 
 
 Confutation. — An argument drawn from an allegory is 
 weak, except all the obscurities therein be first explained.f 
 Besides, Africa Cesariensis, where the Donatists were, was 
 much more west than south from Judea. But God's church 
 cannot be contracted to the chapel of Donatus, to which God 
 himself, the truest surveyor, alloweth larger bounds : Psalm 
 ii. 8. Ask of me, and liciLl give thee the heathtnfor thine in- 
 heritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy posses- 
 sion. Now the restrainers of the church to a small place, as 
 much as in them lies, falsify God's promise, and shorten 
 Christ's portion. Many other places speak the large extent 
 of the gospel-t Gen. xxii. 17. xxviii. 14. Ps. Ixxii. 8. &c. 
 
 Second Position. — That their church consisted of a holy 
 company, pure and undefiled indeed. Thus also the Ana- 
 baptists brag of their holiness, as if nothing else were required 
 to make men pure, but a conceit that they are so. Sure had 
 they no other fault but want of charity, their hands could not 
 be clean, who throw so much dirt on other men's faces. 
 
 Reaaons. — It is said, Ephes. v. 27. That Christ might 
 present to himself a glorious church, without spot, or wrinkle, 
 or any such thing, hut that it should be holy, and without 
 blemish : which the Donatists appropriate to themselves. 
 
 Confutation. — This glorious presentation of the church is 
 performed in the world to come.|( Here it consisteth of 
 sinners, who had rather confess their wrinkles, than paint 
 them, and had need to pray daily. And forgive us our tres- 
 passes. 
 
 Third Position. — That mixed communions were infectious, 
 and the pious promiscuously receiving with the profane, are 
 polluted thereby. Hear the anabaptizing sing the same note: 
 By profane and ignorant persons coming to the Lord's table, 
 
 t " Quis non impudentissime uitatur aliquid in allegoria posi- 
 tum pro SB interpielari, nisi habeat et manifesta testimonia quorum 
 lumine illustrentur obscura." — Aug. torn. 2. Epist. 48. ad Vincent. 
 
 i Optat. Milev, lib. 2 ; et Aug. contra Liter. Petil. cap. 6» 
 7, 8. 
 
 [1 Aug. ut prius ad Vincentium, et Epist. 50. ad Bonifac. 
 
THE RIGID DONATISTS. 323 
 others also that communicate with them are guilty of the same 
 profanation. \ 
 
 Reasons. — Because several places of Scripture commend, 
 yea command, a separation from them. Jer. xv. 19. Take 
 forth the precious from the vile. 2 Cor. vi. 17. Be ye sepa- 
 rate, and touch no unclean thing. 2 Thess. iii. 6. Withdraw 
 yourselves from every brother that walketh disorderly. 1 Cor. 
 V. 7. Purge out therefore the old leaven, &c. 
 
 Confutation. — In these and the like places two things are 
 enjoined : first, a separation from intimate familiarity with 
 profane persons ; secondly, a separation from their vices and 
 wickedness, by detesting and disclaiming them : but neither 
 civil state society, nor public church-communion, is hereby 
 prohibited. By purging out the old leaven, church censures 
 are meant, to excommunicate the openly profane. But that 
 mixed communions pollute not, appears, because St. Paul 
 saith, 1 Cor. xi. 28. But let a man examine himself, and so 
 let him eat of that bread, &c.; but enjoins not men to examine 
 others, which wzs, necessary if bad communicants did defile. 
 It neither makes the cheer nor welcome the worse, to sit next 
 to him at God's table M^ho wants a wedding-garment; for 
 he that touches his person, but disclaims his practices, is as 
 far from him as the east from the west, yea, as heaven from 
 hell. In bodily diseases one may be infected without his 
 knowledge, against his will : not so in spiritual contagions, 
 where acceditur ad v it ium corruptionis vitio co7isensionis,l and 
 none can be infected against their consent. 
 
 Fourth Position. — That the godly were bound to sever 
 from the society of the wicked, and not to keep any com- 
 munion with them. Thus the most rigid of modern factors 
 for the Independent congregations would draw their files out 
 of the army of our national church, and set up a congregation 
 wherein Christ shall reign in beauty and purity. But they 
 may fly so far from mystical Babylon, as to run to literal 
 Babel ; I mean, bring all to confusion, and founder the com- 
 monwealth : for they that stride so wide at once, will go far 
 with few paces. 
 
 Reason. — Because it is written, 2 Cor. vi. 14. What com- 
 
 t Protestation Protested, p. 14. 
 
 X August, contra Don. post (.'oil. Lib. 
 
324 TEE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 munion hath light with darkness ? * aod in other places to 
 
 the same effect. 
 
 Confutation. — The answer is the same with the former : 
 but the tares shall grow with the com. And in the visible 
 militant church and kingdom of grace, that wicked men shall 
 be inseparably mingled with the godly, besides our Saviour's 
 testimony (Matt. xiii. 30.) these reasons do approve: first, 
 because hypocrites can never be severed but by Him that can 
 search the heart : secondly, because if men should make the 
 separation, weak Christians would be counted no Christians, 
 and those who have a grain of grace under a load of imper- 
 fections, would be counted reprobates : thirdly, because 
 God's vessels of honour from all etemit}% not as yet ap- 
 pearing, but wallowing in sin, would be made castaways: 
 fourthly, because God, by the mixture of the wicked with 
 the godly, will try the watchfulness and patience of his ser- 
 vants : fifthly, because thereby he will bestow many favours 
 on the wicked, to clear his justice, and render them the 
 more inexcusable : lastly, because the mixture of the wicked, 
 grieving the godly, will make them the more heartily pray 
 for the day of judgment. The desire of future glor)- makes 
 the godly to cry, Come, Lord Jesus ; but the feeling of present 
 pain, whereof they are most sensible, causeth the ingemina- 
 tion, Come^ Lord Jesus, come quickly. In a word, as it is 
 wholesome for a flock of sheep for some goats to feed amongst 
 them, their bad scent being good physic for the sheep to 
 keep them from the shakings ; so much profit redounds to 
 the godly by the necessary mixture of the wicked amongst 
 them, making the pious to stick the faster to God and good- 
 ness. 
 
 Fifth Position. — That the efficacy of the sacrament de- 
 pends on the piety of the minister ; f so that, in effect, his 
 piety washeth the water in baptism, and sanctifieth it; 
 whereas the profeneness of a bad man administering it, doth 
 unsacrament baptism itself, making a nullity thereof. Herein 
 the Anabaptists join hands with them, as it is geaierally known 
 by their rebaptizing. Yea, some tending that way, have 
 
 * Aug. lib- 2. contra Petil. cap. 39. 
 
 t Aug. lib. 1. contra Liter. Petil. cap. 1. 
 
THE RIGID DONATISTS. 325 
 maintained, that sacraments received from ignorant and un- 
 preaching ministers are of no validity.* 
 
 Reason. — It is written, Matt. vii. IS. A good tree cannot 
 bring forth evil fruity neither can a corrupt tree bring forth 
 good fruit. 
 
 Confutation. — This is true of men's personal, but not of 
 their ministerial acts : that minister that can add the word of 
 institution to the element, makes a sufficient sacrament : f 
 and sacraments, like to shell meats, may be eaten after foul 
 hands, without any harm. Cum ohsint indigne tractantibus, 
 prosint tamen digne surnentibus.X Yet, God make all mi- 
 nisters pious, painful, and able ! we, if beholding the present 
 age, may justly bemoan their want, who, remembering the 
 former age, must as justly admire their plenty. 
 
 Sixth Position. — That all learning and eloquence was to 
 be condemned. § Late sectarists go farther : Greenwood and 
 Barrow moved Queen Elizabeth to abolish both universities, || 
 Which we believe and wish may then be done^ 
 When all blear eyes have quite put out the sun. 
 
 Reason. — Because learning hath been the cause of many 
 heresies and discords in the church. 
 
 Confuta tion. — Not learning, but the conceit thereof in those 
 that wanted it, and the abuse thereof in such as had it, caused 
 heretics. 
 
 Seventh Position. — That magistrates have no power to 
 compel people to serve God by outward punishment ; which 
 is also the distilled position of our anabaptists : thus blinding 
 the ministers, and binding the magistrate, what work do 
 they make ! 
 
 Reason. — Because it is a breach of the liberty of the crea- 
 ture :f the King of heaven gave not men free will for the 
 kings of the earth to take it away from them. 
 
 Confutation. — God gave men free will, to use it well ; if 
 they abuse it, God gave magistrates power to punish them, 
 else they bear the sword in vain. They may command people 
 
 * .T. Penry, p. 46 and 49. t Aug. Tract. 80. in Johan. 
 
 ± Idem, contra Parmen, lib. 2. cap. 10. 
 
 § Idem, lib. 1. contra Cresco. cap. 30. 
 
 II Dr. Soame, writing against them, lib. 2. p. 4. 
 
 t August, lib. 3. cont. Crescon. cap. 51. 
 
326 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 to serve God who herein have no cause to complain : better 
 to be compelled to a feast, (Luke xiv. 23.) than to run to a 
 fray. But these men who would not have magistrates compel 
 them, guare whether if they had power they would not com- 
 pel magistrates. 
 
 The Donatists also did mightily boast of miracles and 
 visions : they made nothing to step into the third heaven, and 
 have familiar dialogues with God himself :* they used also to 
 cite their revelations as arguments for their opinions ; we will 
 trust the copy of such their, visions to be true, when we see 
 the original produced : herein the Anabaptists come not be- 
 hind them. Strange was the Donatists' ambition of martyr- 
 dom ; they used to force such as they met to wound them 
 mortally, or violently to stab and kill them ; and, on purpose, 
 to fall down from steep mountains,f who one day may wish 
 the mountains to fall on them. For martyrs are to die wil- 
 lingly, but not wilfully ; and though to die be a debt due to 
 nature, yet he that pays it before the time may be called 
 upon for repayment to die the second death. 
 
 Once many Donatists met a noble gentleman, and gave 
 him a sword into his hand, commanding him to kill them, 
 or threatening to kill him.| Yet he refused to do it, unless 
 first they would suffer him to bind them all ; for fear, said he, 
 that when I have killed one or two of you, the rest alter their 
 minds and fall upon me. Having fast bound them all, he 
 soundly whipt them, and so let them alone. Herein he 
 shewed more wit than they wanted, and more charity than 
 wit, denying them their desires, and giving them their deserts, 
 seeking to make true saints by marring of false martyrs. 
 
 These Donatists were opposed by the learned writings of 
 private fathers, Optatus Milevitanus, and St. Augustine (no 
 heresy could bud out, but presently his pruning-hook was 
 at it), and by whole councils, one at Carthage, another at 
 Aries. But the Donatists, whilst blessing themselves, cared 
 not for the church's anathemas, being so far from fearing her 
 excommunications, that they prevented them in first excom- 
 
 * " Donatus oravit, respondet ei Deus de Coelo." — Aug. in 
 Johann. tract. 3. prope finem. 
 t Theodoretus, in Fabulis Haeret. 
 i Centuriator. cent. iv. c. 5, p. 211. ex Theodoreto. 
 
THE RIGID DONATISTS. 327 
 municating themselves by separation ; and they count it a 
 kindness to be shut out, who would willingly be gone. 
 
 Besides, they called at Carthage an anti-council of their 
 own faction, consisting of two hundred and seventy bishops, 
 to confirm th^ir opinions.* Let truth never challenge error 
 at the weapon of number alone, without other arguments ; for 
 some orthodox councils have had fewer suffrages in them, 
 than this Donatistical conventicle; and we may see small 
 pocket Bibles, and a great folio Alcoran. 
 
 But that which put the period to this heresy (for after the 
 six hundredth year of Christ, the Donatist appears not, J /oo/cec^ 
 after his place, and he was not to be found) was partly their 
 own dissensions, for they crumbled into several divisions 
 amongst themselves ;f besides the honest Rogatists (of whom 
 before), they had several sects, some more, some less strict, 
 calkd from their several masters, Cresconians, Petilians, |: 
 Ticonians, Parmenians, Maximians, &c. who much differed 
 amongst themselves. Thus is it given to all heresies to break 
 out into under factions, still going further in their tenets ; 
 and such as take themselves to be twice refined, will count 
 all others to be but dross, till there be as many heresies as 
 heretics ; like the Ammonites, so scattered by Saul, 1 Sam. 
 xi. 11. that there remained not two of them which were to- 
 gether. 
 
 But chiefly they were suppressed by the civil magistrate, 
 (Moses will do more with a frown than Aaron with a blow, 
 I mean with church-censures) for Honorius the godly em- 
 peror, with his arm above a thousand miles long, easily 
 reached them in Europe, Asia, and Africa, and by punish- 
 ments, mixed with the church's instructions, converted and 
 reclaimed very many,§ 
 
 In such a case, teaching without punishment had done 
 little good ; and punishment without teaching would have 
 
 * Aug. Epist. ad Vincentium. 
 t In minutula frustula. Idem. 
 
 X Petilian went not so far as the rest. Aug. lib. 3. de Correct. 
 Donati, c. 17, 19 ; Vide Aug. de Schism. Maxim. Brevi. Collat. 
 3. diei. 
 
 § He caused the patent of privilege which Julian granted the 
 Donatists, " publicis locis affigendum in ludibrium." — Vide 
 Baron, in anno 362. num. 264. 
 
328 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 done much harm ; both mingled together, by God's blessing, 
 
 caused the conversion of many, and final suppression of that 
 
 heresy. 
 
 The same God of his goodness grant, that by the same 
 means such as revive this heresy now-a-days, may have their 
 eyes opened and their mouths stopped, their pride less and 
 their knowledge more, that those may be stayed who are 
 going, and those brought back who are gone into their dan- 
 gerous opinions. For if the angels in heaven rejoice at the 
 conversion of a sinner, none but devils, and men devilishly 
 minded, will be sorrowful thereat. 
 
 XII. — The Liar 
 
 JS one that makes a trade to tell falsehoods vnth intent to 
 deceive. He is either open or secret. A secret liar or 
 equivocator is such a one as, by mental reservations and other 
 tricks, deceives him to whom he speaks, being lawfully called 
 to deliver all the truth. And sure, speech being but a copy of 
 the heart, it cannot be avouched for a true copy, that hath 
 less in it than the original. Hence it often comes to pass, 
 
 JMicn Jesuits unto us answer Nay, 
 
 Thej/ do not English speak, 'tis Greek they say. 
 
 Such an equivocator we leave, more needing a book than 
 character to describe him. Tlie open liar is, first, either mis- 
 chievous, condemned by all : secondly, officious, unlawful 
 also, because doing ill for good to come of it : thirdly, jesting, 
 when in sport and merriment. And though some count a 
 jesting lie to be like the dirt of oysters, which, they say, never 
 stains, yet is it a sin in earnest. What policy is it for one to 
 wound himself to tickle others, and to stab his own soul to 
 make the stand ers-by sport ? We come to describe the liar. 
 
 1. At first he tells a lie xcith some shame and reluctancy. 
 For then, if he cuts off but a lap of truth's garment, his heart 
 smites him ; but, in process of time, he conquers his con- 
 science, and, from quenching it, there ariseth a smoke which 
 soots and fouls his soul, so that, afterwards, he lies without 
 any re2Tet. 
 
 •2. Having made one lie, he fain to make more to main- 
 tain it. For an untruth wanting a firm foundation, needs 
 
THE LIAR. 329 
 many buttresses. The honour and happiness of the Israel- 
 ites is the misery and mischief of lies; not one amongst 
 them shall be barren* but miraculously procreative to beget 
 others. 
 
 3. He hath a good memory, which he badly abuseth. Me- 
 mory in a liar is no more than needs. For, first, lies are hard 
 to be remembered, because many, whereas truth is but one : 
 secondly, because a lie cursorily told, takes little footing and 
 settled fastness in the teller's memory, but prints itself deeper 
 in the hearers, who take the greater notice, because of the 
 improbability and deformity thereof ; and one will remember 
 the sight of a monster longer than the sight of a handsome 
 body. Hence comes it to pass, that when the liar hath for- 
 gotten himself, his auditors put him in mind of the lie, and 
 take him therein. 
 
 4. Sometimes, though his memory cannot help him from 
 being arrested for lying, his wit rescues him : which needs a 
 long reach to bring all ends presently and probably together, 
 gluing the spUnters of his tales so cunningly, that the cracks 
 cannot be perceived. Thus a relic-monger bragged, he could 
 shew a feather of the dove at Christ's baptism ; but, being to 
 shew it to the people, a wag had stolen away the feather, and 
 put a coal in the room of it. Well, quoth he to the spec- 
 tators, I cannot be so good as my word for the present; but 
 here is one of the coals that broiled St. Laurence, and thaVs 
 worth the seeing.-f 
 
 5. Being challenged for telling a lie, no man is more furi- 
 ously angry. Then he draws his sword and threatens, be- 
 cause he thinks that an offer of revenge, to shew himself moved 
 at the accusation, doth in some sort discharge him of the im- 
 putation ; as if the condemning of the sin in appearance ac- 
 quitted him in effect : or else, because he that is called a liar 
 to his face, is also called a coward in the same breath, if he 
 swallows it ; and the party charged doth conceive that if he 
 vindicates his valour, his truth will be given him into the 
 bargain. 
 
 6. At last he believes his oivn lies to be true. He hath told 
 them over and over so often, that prescription makes a right, 
 
 * Deuteronomy vii. 14. 
 
 t Chemnitius, in Exam. cont. Trident, part 4. p. 12. 
 
330 THE PROF AXE STATE. 
 
 and he verily believes tliat at the first he gathered the stor>' 
 
 out of some authentical author, which only grew in his own 
 
 brain. 
 
 7. No man else believes him when he speaks the truth. 
 How much gold soever he hath in his chest, his word is but 
 brass, and passeth for nothing : yea, he is dumb in effect, 
 for it is all one whetlier one cannot speak, or cannot be be- 
 lieved. 
 
 To conclude : some of the West Indians, to expiate their 
 sin of l>"ing, use to let themselves blood in their tongues, and 
 to offer their blood to their idols : a good cure for the quinsy, 
 but no satisfaction for Iving. God's word hath taught us 
 better : What profit is there in my blood ? The true repent- 
 ance of the party, washed in the blood of Christ, can only 
 obtain pardon for this sin. 
 
 XIII. — The Common Barrator. 
 
 A BARRATOR is a horseleech that only sucks the cor- 
 — : i i " v^es only in tricks and 
 
 q : - ^ .d he loveth a cavil 
 
 bt" - a:iu.n:eni, an cvai;on uian an answer. There 
 
 be ^ jf them : either such as fight themselves, or are 
 
 trumpeters m a battle to set on others. The former is a pro- 
 fessed dueller in the law, that will challenge any, and in all 
 suit-combats be either principal or second. 
 
 1 . References and compositions he hates as had as a hang- 
 man hates a pardon. Had he been a scholar, he would have 
 maintained all paradoxes ; if a chirurgeon, he would never 
 have cured a wound, but always kept it raw ; if a soldier, he 
 would have been excellent at a siege, nothing but ejectiofirma 
 would out him. 
 
 2. He is half starved in the lent o f a long vacation for 
 toanl of employment ; save only that then he brews work to 
 lm)ach in tam-time. I find one so much delighted in law- 
 sport, that when Lewis the king of France offered to ease him 
 of a number of suits, he earnestly besought his highness to 
 leave him some twenty or thirty behind, wherewith he might 
 merrily pass away the time.* 
 
 * Stephens' Apol. for H»odotiis« 
 
THE BARRATOR. 331 
 
 3. He hath this property of an honest man, that his word 
 is as good as his bond ; for he will pick the lock of the strongest 
 conveyance, or creep out at the lattice of a word. Where- 
 fore, he counts to enter common with others, as good as his 
 own several : for he will so vex his partners that they had 
 rather forego their right, than undergo a suit with him. As 
 for the trumpeter barrator, 
 
 4. He falls in with all his neighbours that fall out, and 
 spurs them on to go to law. A gentleman, who in a duel 
 was rather scratched than wounded, sent for a chirurgeon, who 
 having opened the wound, charged his man with all speed to 
 fetch such a salve from such a place in his study. Why, 
 said the gentleman, is the hurt so dangerous ? Oh yes, an- 
 swered the chirurgeon; ij'he returns not in post-haste, the 
 wound will cure itself, and so I shall lose my fee. Thus 
 the barrator posts to the houses of his neighbours, lest the 
 sparks of their small discords should go out before he brings 
 them fuel, and so he be broken by their making up. Surely 
 he loves not to have the bells rung in a peal, but he likes it 
 rather when they are jangled backward, himself having kindled 
 the fire of dissension amongst his neighbours. 
 
 5. He lives till his clothes have as many rents as himself 
 hath made dissensions. I wonder any should be of this trade, 
 when none ever thrived on it, paying dear rates for their 
 counsels : for, bringing many cracked titles, they are fain to 
 fill up their gaping chinks with the more gold. 
 
 But I have done with this wrangling companion, half afraid 
 to meddle with him any longer, lest he should commence a 
 suit against me for describing him. 
 
 The reader may easily perceive, how this book of the Pro- 
 fane State would swell to a great proportion, should we 
 therein character all the kinds of vicious persons who stand 
 in opposition to those which are good. But this pains may 
 well be spared, seeing that rectum est index sui et obliqui ; 
 and the lustre of the good formerly described, will sufficiently 
 discover the enormity of those who are otherwise. We 
 will therefore instance in three principal offenders, and so 
 conclude. 
 
332 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 XIV. — The Degenerous Gentleman. 
 
 SOME will challenge this title of incongruity, as if those 
 two words were so dissonant, that a whole sentence 
 cannot hold them ; for sure where the gentleman is the root, 
 degenerous cannot be the fruit. But if any quarrel with my 
 words, Valerius Maximus shall be my champion, who styleth 
 such, Nobilia Portenta.* By gentleman we understand one 
 whom the heralds, except they will deny the best records, 
 must allow of ancient parentage. Such a one, when a child, 
 being kept the devil's Nazarite, that no razor of correction 
 must come upon his head in his father's family, see what he 
 proves in the process of time, brought to extreme poverty. 
 Herein we intend no invective glance on those pious gentle- 
 men, whose states are consumed through God's secret judg- 
 ment, and none of the owners' visible default ; only we 
 meddle with such as by carelessness and riot cause their own 
 ruin. 
 
 1 . He goes to school to learn in jest, and play in earnest. 
 Now this gentleman, now that gentlewoman begs him a play- 
 day, and now the book must be thrown away, that he may see 
 the buck hunted. He comes to school late, departs soon, and 
 the whole year with him (like the fortnight when Christmas- 
 day falls on a Tuesday) is all holidays and half-holidays. And 
 as the poets feign of Thetis, that she drenched Achilles her son 
 in the Stygian waters, that he might not be wounded with any 
 weapon ; so cockering mothers enchant their sons to make 
 them rod-free, which they do by making some golden circles 
 in the hand of the schoolmaster : thus these two conjoining 
 together, make the indentures to bind the youth to eternal ig- 
 norance ; yet perchance he may get some alms of learning, 
 here a snap, there a piece of knowledge, but nothing to pur- 
 pose. 
 
 2. His father's serving-men, which he counts no mean pre- 
 ferment, admit him into their society. Going to a drinking 
 match, they carry him with them to enter him, and ap- 
 plaud his hopefulness, finding him vicious beyond his age. 
 The butler makes him free, having first paid his fees ac- 
 
 * Valer. Max. lib. iii. c. 5. 
 
DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN. 333 
 customed, of bis own father's cellar, and guesseth the pro- 
 foundness of his young master's capacity, by the depth of the 
 whole ones he fetcheth off. 
 
 3. Coming to the university^ his chief study is to study 
 nothing. What is learning but a cloak-bag of books, cum- 
 bersome for a gentleman to carry ; and the muses fit to make 
 wives for farmers' sons ? Perchance his own tutor, for the 
 promise of the next living (which notwithstanding his pro- 
 mise he afterwards sells to another), contributes to his undo- 
 ing, letting him live as he list : yea, perhaps his own mother 
 (whilst his father diets him for his health with a moderate 
 allowance) makes liim surfeit underhand, by sending him 
 money. Thus whilst some complain that the university 
 infected him, he infected the university, from which he 
 sucked no milk, but poisoned her nipples. 
 
 4. At the inns of courts under pretence to learn law, he 
 learns to he lawless ; not knowing by his study so much as 
 what an execution means, till he learns it by his own dear 
 experience. Here he grows acquainted with the roaring 
 hoys, I am afraid so called by a woful prolepsis, here, for 
 hereafter. What formerly was counted the chief credit of an 
 orator, these esteem the honour of a swearer, pronunciation, 
 to mouth an oath with a graceless grace. These, as David 
 saith, clothe themselves with curses as with a garment, and 
 therefore desire to be in the latest fashion both in their clothes 
 and curses : these infuse all their skill into their young novice, 
 who shortly proves such a proficient, that he exceeds his 
 masters in all kinds of vicious courses. 
 
 5. Through the mediation of a scrivener^ he grows acquainted 
 with some great usurer. Nor is this youngster so ravenous, 
 as the other is ready to feed him with money, sometimes with 
 a courteous violence forcing on him more than he desires, 
 provided the security be good, except the usurer be so valiant 
 as to hazard the losing of a small hook to catch a great fish, 
 and will adventure to trust him, if his estate in hope be over- 
 measure, though he himself be under age. Now the greater 
 part of the money he takes up is not for his own spending, 
 but to pay the shot of other men's riot. 
 
 6. After his father s death he flies out more than ever before. 
 Formerly he took care for means for his spending, now he 
 takes care for spending for his means. His wealth is so deep 
 
334 THE PROFANE STATE. I 
 
 a gulf, no riot can ever sound the bottom of it. To make his I 
 guests drunk is the only seal of their welcome. His very I 
 meanest servant may be master of the cellar, and those who I 
 deser\e no beer may command the best wine : such dancing I 
 by day, such masking by night, such roaring, such revelling, fl 
 able to awake the sleeping ashes of his great-great-grandfather, ■ 
 and to fright all blessing from his house. ^ 
 
 7. Meantime the old sore of his London debts corrupts and 
 festers. He is careless to take out the dead flesh, or to dis- 
 charge either principal or interest. Such small leaks are not 
 worth the stopping or searching for till they be greater; he 
 should undervalue himself to pay a sum before it grew con- 
 siderable for a man of his estate. Nor can he be more care- 
 less to pay, than the usurer is willing to continue the debt, 
 knowing that his bonds, like infants, battle best with sleeping. 
 
 8. Vacation is his vocation, and he scorns to follow any 
 profession ; and will not be confined to any laudable employ- 
 ment. But they who count a calling a prison, shall at last 
 make a prison their calling. He instils also his lazy prin- 
 ciples into his children, being of the same opinion with the 
 Neapolitan gentry, who stand so on the punctos of their 
 honour,* that they prefer robbery before industry, and will 
 rather suffer their daughter to make merchandize of her 
 chastity, than marry the richest merchant. 
 
 9. Drinking is one of the principal liberal sciences he pro- 
 fesseth. A most ungentle quality, fit to be banished to rogues 
 and rags. It was anciently counted a Dutch vice, and 
 swarmed most in that country. I remember a sad accident 
 which happened to Fliolmus, king of Gothland, who whilst 
 a lord of misrule ruled in his court, and both he and his ser- 
 vants were drank, in mere merriment meaning no harm, they 
 took the king, and put him in jest into a great vessel of beer, 
 and drowned him in earnest. f But one tells us that this 
 ancient and habited vice is amongst the Dutch of late years 
 much decreased which if it be not, would it were. Sure 
 our mariners observe that, as the sea grows daily shallower 
 and shallower on the shores of Holland and Zealand, so the 
 
 * Sir William Segar, in his Honours Milit. and Civil. 
 
 t Olaus -Mag. Hist. Seprent. p. 531. 
 
 1 Versieg. Kestitut. of Decayed Intellig. p. 53. 
 
DEGENEROUS GENTLEMAN. 335 
 
 channel of late waxeth deeper on the coasts of Kent and 
 Essex. I pray God, if drunkenness ebbs in Dutchland, it 
 doth not flow in England, and gain not in the island what it 
 loseth in the continent. Yea, some plead, when overwhelmed 
 with liquor, that their thirst is but quenched : as well may 
 they say, that in Noah's flood the dust was but sufficiently 
 allayed. 
 
 10. Gaming is another art he studies much: an enticing 
 witch, that hath caused the ruin of many. Hannibal said 
 of Marcellus, that nec honam nec niulam fortunam ferre po- 
 test* he could be quiet neither conqueror nor conquered ; 
 thus such is the itch of play, that gamesters, neither winning 
 nor losing, can rest contented. One propounded this ques- 
 tion, Whether men in ships on sea were to be accounted 
 among the living or the dead, because there were but few inches 
 betwixt them and drowning ? The same scruple may be made 
 of great gamesters, though their estates be never so great, 
 whether they are to be esteemed poor or rich, there being but 
 a few casts at dice betwixt a gentleman (in great game) and 
 a beggar. Our gallant games deeply, and makes no doubt 
 in conscience to adventure advowsons, patronages, and church 
 livings in gaming. He might call to mind Sir Miles Pateridge, 
 who, as the soldiers cast lots for Christ's coat, played at dice 
 for Jesus' bells with King Henry the Eighth,t and won them 
 of him. Thus he brought the bells to ring in his pocket, but 
 the ropes afterwards catched about his neck, and for some 
 offences he was hanged in the days of King Edward the 
 Sixth. 
 
 11. Then first he sells the outworks of his estate, some 
 straggling manor. Nor is he sensible of this sale, which 
 makes his means more entire, as counting the gathering of such 
 scattering rents rather burdensome than profitable. This he 
 sells at half the value, so that the feathers will buy the goose, 
 and the wood will pay for the ground : with this money if he 
 stops the hole to one creditor, by his prodigality he presently 
 opens a wider gap to another. 
 
 * Liv. lib. 27. ' 
 
 t These were four bells, the greatest in London, hanglno: in a 
 fair tower in St. Paul's Churchyard. — Slew's Survey of Lonuon, 
 p. 357. 
 
336 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 12. By this tune the long dormant usurer ramps for the 
 poj/ment of his money. The principal, the grandmother ; and 
 the use, the daughter, and the use upon use, the grandchild ; 
 and perchance a generation farther hath swelled the debt to 
 an incredible sura, for the satisfying whereof our gallant sells 
 the moiety of his estate. 
 
 13. Having sold half his land, he abates nothing of his ex- 
 penses : but thinks five hundred pounds a year will be enough 
 to maintain that, for which a thousand pounds was too little. 
 He will not stoop till he falls, nor lessen his kennel of dogs, 
 till, with Actaeon, he be eaten up with his own hounds. 
 
 14. Being about to sink, he catcheth at every rush to save 
 himself. Perchance sometimes he snatcheth at the thistle 
 of a project, which first pricks his hands, and then breaks. 
 Herein it may be he adventured on a matter wherein he had 
 no skill himself (hoping by letting the commonwealth blood, 
 to fill up his own veins again), and therefore trades with his 
 partner's brains, as his partner with his purse, till both mis- 
 carry together ; or else it may be, he catcheth hold on the heel 
 of another man who is in as dangerous a case as himself, and 
 they embracing each other in mutual bonds, hasten their 
 drowning together. His last manor he sells twice, to a country 
 gentleman, and a London usurer, though the last, as having 
 the first title, prevails to possess it : usurers herein being like 
 unto foxes ; they seldom take pains to dig any holes them- 
 selves, but earth in that which the foolish badger made for 
 them, and dwell in the manors and fair houses which others 
 have built and provided. 
 
 15. Having lost his own legs, he relies on the staff of his 
 kindred ; first visiting them as an intermitting ague, but after- 
 wards turns a quotidian, wearing their thresholds as bare as 
 his own coat. At last, he is as welcome as a storm ; he that 
 is abroad shelters himself from it, and he that is at home 
 shuts the door. If he intrudes himself yet, some with their 
 jeering tongues give him many a gird, but his brazen impu- 
 dence feels nothing ; and let him be armed on free cost with 
 the pot and the pipe, he will give them leave to shoot their 
 flouts at him till they be weary. Sometimes he sadly paceth 
 over the ground he sold, and is on fire with anger with him- 
 self for his folly, but presently quencheth it at the next ale- 
 house. 
 
DEGENEROUS G ENTLEMAN. 337 
 
 16. Having undone himself, he sets up the trade to undo 
 others. If he can but screw himself into the acquaintance of 
 a rich heir, he rejoiceth as much at the prize as the Hollanders 
 when they had intercepted the plate-fleet. He tutors this 
 young gamester in vice, leading him a more compendious way 
 to his ruin, than possibly he could find out of himself. And 
 doth not the guide deserve good wages for his direction ? 
 
 17. Perhaps he behaves himself so basely that he is degraded; 
 the sad and solemn ceremonies whereof we may meet with in 
 old precedents : but of them all, in my apprehension, none 
 should make deeper impression in an ingenuous soul than this 
 one, that at the solemn degradation of a knight for high mis- 
 demeanor, the king and twelve knights more did put on mourn- 
 ing garments,* as an emblem of sorrow for this injury to ho- 
 nour, that a man gentle by birth and blood, or honoured by a 
 prince's favour, should so far forget not only himself, but his 
 order, as to deserve so severe punishment. 
 
 18. His death is as miserable as his life hath been vicious. 
 An hospital is the height he hopes to be advanced to : but 
 commonly he dies not in so charitable a prison, but sings his 
 last note in a cage. Nor is it impossible but that, wanting 
 land of his own, he may encroach on the king's highway ; 
 and there, taking himself to be lord of the soil, seize on tra- 
 vellers as strays due unto him, and so the hangman give him 
 a wreath more than he had in his arms before. If he dies at 
 liberty in his pilgrimage betwixt the houses of his acquaint- 
 ance, perhaps some well-disposed gentleman may pay for his 
 burial, and truly mourn at the funeral of an ancient family. 
 His children, if any, must seek their fortunes the farther off, 
 because their father found his too soon, before he had wisdom 
 to manage them. Within two generations his name is quite 
 forgotten, that ever any such was in the place, except some 
 herald, in his visitation, pass by, and chance to spell his 
 broken arms in a church-window. And then, how weak a 
 thing is gentry, than which, if it wants virtue, brittle glass is 
 the more lasting monument ? 
 
 We forbear to give an instance of a dangerous gentleman ; 
 would to God the world gave no examples of them ! If any 
 please to look into the forenamed Valerius Maximus,t he shall 
 
 * Markham's Decads of Honour, p. 76. t Loco prius citato, 
 z 
 
338 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 there find the base son of Scipio AlVicanus, the conqueror of 
 Hannibal and Africa, so ill imitating his father, that for his 
 viciousness he received many disgraceful repulses firom the 
 people of Rome, the fragrant smell of his father's memory 
 making him to stink the more in their nostrils ; yea they 
 forced him to pluck ofl' from his finger a signet-ring, whereon 
 the face of his father was engraven, as counting him unworthy 
 to wear his picture, who would not resemble his virtue. 
 
 X\'. — The Traitor. 
 
 i TRAITOR works by fraud,* as a rebel does by force, 
 and in this respect is more dangerous, because there is 
 less stock required to set him up : rebellion must be managed 
 with many swords, treason to his prince's person may be with 
 one knife. Generally their success is as bad as their cause, 
 being either detected before, defeated in, or punished afto- 
 their part acted ; dete^ned before, either by wilfulness or weak- 
 ness of those who are privy to it. 
 
 1. A pLuter of treason puts his head into the halter , and 
 the halter into his hand to whom he Jirst imparts it. He often- 
 times reveals it, and by making a footstool of his friend's head, 
 climbs up the higher mto the prince's favour. 
 
 2. Some mens >outs are twt strong enough^ but that a 
 weighty secret icUi icork a hole through them. These, ralhw 
 out of folly than falseness, unawares let fall words, which are 
 Xakm up by the judicious ears of such who can spell treason 
 by putting together distracted syllables, and by piecing of 
 broken sentences. Others have their hearts swoln so great 
 with hope of what they shall get, tliat their bodies are too 
 little to hold them, and so betray themselves by tlireatening 
 and blustering language. Otrers have cut their throats with 
 their own hands, their own writings, the best records being 
 produced s^nst them. And here we must know, that 
 
 3. Strong presumptions soint time!! serve foi' proofs in point 
 o f treason : For it being a de^d of darkness, it is madness to 
 
 * He is either a^inst the sc'vereign person alone, or against 
 the Slate wherein he lives. We deal only in describing the for- 
 mer, because to character tlie other, exact skill in the municipal 
 laws of that state is required, v?herein be is charged of treason. 
 
THE TRAITOR. 339 
 look that the sun should shine at midnight, and to expect evident 
 proof. Should princes delay till they did plainly see treason, 
 they might chance to feel it first. If this semiplena probatio 
 lights on a part suspected before, the party himself is the 
 other part of the proof, and makes it complete. And here 
 the rack, though fame-like it be 
 
 Tarn Jicti pravique tenax quam nuncia veri, 
 
 is often used ; and the wooden horse hath told strange secrets. 
 But grant it pass undiscovered in the plotting, it is commonly 
 prevented in the practising, 
 
 4. By the majesty, innocency, or valour of the prince, or 
 his attendants. Some have been dazzled with the divine 
 beams shining in a prince's face, so that coming to command 
 his life, they could not be masters of their own senses. In- 
 nocencyhath protected others, and made their enemies relent; 
 and pity, though a stranger to him for many years before, 
 hath visited a traitor's heart in that very instant. If these 
 fail, a king's valour hath defended him ; it being most true 
 of a king, what Pliny reports of a lion,* in hunting if he be 
 wounded and not killed, he will be sure to eye and kill him 
 that wounded him. 
 
 5. Some by flourishing aforehand have never stricken a blow ; 
 but by warning, have armed those to whom they threatened. 
 Thus mad Somer\dlle coming to kill Queen EUzabeth, by 
 the way (belike to try whether his sword would cut) quarrelled 
 with, and wounded one or two, and therefore was apprehended 
 before he came to the court. 
 
 6. The palsy of guiltiness hath made the stoutest traitor's 
 hands to shake, sometimes to miss their mark. Their consci- 
 ence sleeping before, is then awakened with this crying sin. 
 The way seems but short to a traveller, when he views it from 
 the top of a hill, who finds it very long when he comes into the 
 plain : so treason surveyed in the heat of blood, and from the 
 height of passion, seems easy to be effected ; which reviewed 
 in cold blood on even terms, is full of dangers and difficulties. 
 If it speed in the acting, generally it is revenged afterwards : 
 For, 
 
 7. A king though killed is not killed, so long as he hath 
 
 * Nat. Hist. hb. 8. c. 16. 
 
340 THE PROFANE STATE, 
 
 son or subject surviviJig. Many wlio have thought they have 
 discharged the debt, have been broken afterwards with the 
 arrearages. As for jouraeyraen traitors who work for others, 
 their wages are ever paid them with a halter; and where 
 one gaineth a garland of bays, hundreds have had a wreath 
 of hemp. 
 
 X\'I. — The Pazzians' Conspiracy.* 
 
 IN the city of Floi-ence, April 26, 1478, being then a po- 
 pular state, the honourable family De Medices managed 
 all chief atiairs, so beloved of the people for their bounty, that 
 the honour tliey had was not extorted by their greatness, but 
 seemed due to their goodness. These Mediceans depressed 
 the Pazzians, another family in that state, as big set, though 
 not so high grown, as the Medicei themselves, loading them 
 with injuries, and debarring them not only from offices in the 
 city, but their o\yu right. The Pazzians, though highly 
 wronged, counterfeited much patience, and, which was a 
 wonder, though malice boiled hot in their hearts, yet no 
 scum ran over in their mouths. 
 
 At last meeting together, they concluded, that seeing the 
 legal way was stopped with violence, the violent way was be- 
 come leg-al, whereby they must right themselves ; and they 
 determined to mvite Julian and Laurence Medices, the go- 
 vernors of the state, to dinner, with Cardinal Raphael Riarius, 
 and there to murder them. The matter was counted easy, 
 because these two brethren were but one in effect, their heads 
 in a manner standing on the same shoulders, because they 
 alwaj'S went together, and were never asunder. Fifty were 
 privy to this plot; each had his office assigned him. Bap- 
 tista Monteseccius was to kill Laurence ; Francis Pazzius and 
 Bemardus Baudinius were to set on Julian ; whilst the arch- 
 bishop of Pisa, one of their allies, was with a band of men 
 to seize on the senate-house. Cardinal Raphael's com- 
 pany, rather than assistance, was required, bemg neither to 
 hunt nor to kill, but only to start the game, and by his pre- 
 sence to bring the two brothers to the dinner. All appointed 
 
 * The sum hereof is taken cut of Machiavel's Florent. Hist. lib. 
 ?. p. 407, et seq. 
 
PAZZIANS' CONSPIRACY. 341 
 the next morning to meet at mass, in the chief church of St. 
 Reparata. 
 
 Here meeting together, all the design was dashed : for here 
 they remembered that Julian de Medices never used to dine.* 
 This they knew before, but considered not till now, as if 
 formerly the vapours arising out of their ambitious hearts 
 had clouded their understanding. Some advised to refer it 
 to another time, which others thought dangerous, conceiving 
 they had sprung so many leaks of suspicion it was impossible 
 to stop them; and feared, there being so many privy to the 
 plot, that if they suffered them to consult with their pillows, 
 their pillows would advise them to make much of their heads ; 
 wherefore, not daring to stay the seasonable ripening of their 
 design, they were forced, in heat of passion, to patch it up 
 presently, and they resolved to take the matter at the first 
 bound, and to commit the murder they intended at dinner, 
 here in the church, taking it for granted the two Mediceans 
 would come to mass, according to their daily custom. 
 
 But changing their stage, they were fain also to alter their 
 actors. Monteseccius would not be employed in the business 
 to stain a sacred place with blood ; and breaking of this string 
 put their plot quite out of tune. And though Anthony V'o- 
 lateran, and Stephen, a priest, were substituted in his room, 
 yet these two made not one fit person ; so great is the differ- 
 ence betwixt a choice and a shift. When the host was ele- 
 vated, they were to assault them ; and the sacrament was a 
 sign to them, not of Christ's death past, but of a murder 
 they were to commit. 
 
 But here again they were at a loss. Treason, like Pope 
 Adrian, may be choked with a fly, and marred with the least 
 unexpected casualty. Though Laurence was at church, 
 Julian was absent. And yet, by beating about, they reco- 
 vered this again: for Francis Pazziusand Bernard Bandinius 
 going home to his house, with compliments and courteous 
 discourse, brought him to the church. Then Bandinius with 
 a dagger stabbed him to the heart, so that he fell down dead ; 
 and Francis Pazzius insulting over his corpse (now no object 
 of valour, but cruelty) gave it many wounds, till, blinded with 
 revenge, he struck a deep gash into his own thigh. 
 
 * Machiav. Disput. de Repub. lib. 3. cap. 6. p. 397. 
 
342 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 But what was over-measure in them, in overacting their 
 parts, was wanting in Anthony and Stephen, who were to 
 kill Laurence in the choir. You traitor^ said Anthony ; * and 
 with that Laurence starting back avoided the strength of the 
 blow, and was wounded only to honour, not danger, and so 
 recovered a strong chapel. Thus malice, which vents itself 
 in threatening, warns men to shun it, and, like hollow sing- 
 ing bullets, flies but half way to tlie mark. With as bad 
 success did the archbishop of Pisa seize on the senate-house, 
 being conquered by the lords therein assembled, and, with 
 many of his accomplices, hung out of a window. 
 
 The Pazzians now betake themselves to their last refuge 
 which their desperate courses had left them. James, the chief 
 of their family, with one hundred more, repair to the market- 
 place, and there ciy, Liberti/, liberty. A few followed them 
 at first ; but the snowball by rolling did rather melt than 
 gather, and those who before had seen the foul face of their 
 treason naked, would not be allured to love it now masked 
 with the pretences of the public good, and at last the whole 
 strength of the state subdued them. 
 
 Every tree about the city bare the fruit of men's heads and 
 limbs : many were put to death with torment, more with 
 shame, and only one, Renatus Pazzius, with pity, who loved 
 his conscience better than his kindred, tliat he would not be 
 active in the conspiracy ; and yet his kindred better than his 
 conscience, that he would not reveal it ; treason being like 
 some kind of strong poison, which though never taken in- 
 wardly by cordial consenting unto it, yet kills by being held 
 in one's hand, and concealing it. 
 
 XVIL— The TvRANT.f 
 
 A TYRANT is one whose list is his law, making his sub- 
 jects his slaves. Yet this is but a tottering kingdom 
 which is founded on trembling people, who fear and hate 
 their sovereign. 
 
 1. He gets all places of advantage into his own hands : yea. 
 
 * Machiav. Disp. de Repub. lib. 3. cap. 6. p. 399. 
 t He is twofold: 1. In titulo, properly an usurper: 2. In 
 exercitio, whom we oulv describe. 
 
THE TYRANT. 343 
 he would disarm his subjects of all scythes and pruning 
 hooks, but for fear of a general rebellion of weeds and thistles 
 in the land. 
 
 2. He takes the laws at the first, rather bi/ undermining 
 than assault: and therefore to do unjustly with the more jus- 
 tice, he counterfeits a legality in all his proceedings, and will 
 not butcher a man without a statute for it. 
 
 3. Afterwards he rageth freely in innocent blood. Is any 
 man virtuous ? Then he is a traitor, and let him die for it, 
 who durst presume to be good when his prince is bad. Is 
 he beloved ? He is a rebel, hath proclaimed himself king, and 
 reigns already in people's affections ; it must cost him his life. 
 Is he of kin to the crown, though so far off that his alliance 
 is scarce to be derived ? All the veins of his body must be 
 drained, and emptied to find there, and fetch thence that 
 dangerous drop of royal blood. And thus having taken the 
 prime men away, the rest are easily subdued. In all these 
 particulars Machiavel is his only counsellor; who, in his 
 Prince, seems to him to resolve all these cases of conscience 
 to be very lawful. 
 
 4. Worst men are his greatest favourites. He keeps a 
 constant kennel of blood-hounds to accuse whom he pleaseth. 
 These will depose more than any can suppose, not sticking 
 to swear that they heard fishes speak, and saw through a 
 millstone at midnight : these fear not to forswear, but fear 
 they shall not forswear enough, to cleave the pin and do the 
 deed. The less credit they have the more they are believed, 
 and their very accusation is held a proof. 
 
 5. He leaves nothing that his poor subjects can call their 
 own, but their miseries. And as in the West Indies thou- 
 sands of kine are killed for their tallow alone, and their flesh 
 cast away : so many men are murdered merely for their wealth, 
 that other men may make mummy of the fat of their estates. 
 
 6. He counts men in misery the most melodious instru- 
 ments: especially if they be well tuned and played upon by- 
 cunning musicians, who are artificial in tormenting them, the 
 more the merrier ; and if he hath a set and full consort of 
 such tortured miserable souls, he danceth most cheerfully at 
 the pleasant ditty of their dying groans. He loves not to be 
 prodigal of men's lives, but thriftily improves the objects of 
 his cruelty, spending them by degrees, and epicurizing on 
 
344 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 their pain : so that, as Philoxeims wished a crane's throat, he 
 could desire asses' ears, the longer to entertain their hideous 
 and miserable roaring. Thus nature had not racks enough 
 for men (the colic, gout, stone, &c.), but art must add to 
 them ; and devils in flesh antedate hell here in inventing tor- 
 ments ; which when inflicted on malefactors extort pity from 
 merciful beholders, and make them give what is not due, but 
 when used by tyrants on innocent people, such tender hearts 
 as stand by, suffer what they see, and by the proxy of sym- 
 pathy feel what they behold. 
 
 7. He seeks to suppress all memorials and writings of his 
 actions. And as wicked Tereus, after he had ravished Philo- 
 mela, cut out her tongue ; so when tyrants have wronged and 
 abused the times they live in, they endeavour to make them 
 speechless to tell no tales to posterity. Herein their folly is 
 more to be admired than their malice, for learning can never 
 be drained dry : though it may be dammed up for one age, yet 
 it will break over : and historians' pens, being long kept fast- 
 ing, will afterwards feed more greedily on the memories of 
 tyrants, and describe them to the full. Yea, I believe their 
 ink hath made some tyrants blacker than they were in their 
 true complexion. 
 
 8. At last he is haunted with the terrors of his own con- 
 science. If any two do but whisper together, whatsoever 
 the propositions be, he conceives their discourse concludes 
 against him. Company and solitariness are equally dreadful 
 unto him, being never safe ; and he wants a guard to guard 
 him from his guard, and so proceeds in infinitum. The scoujts 
 of Charles, duke of Burgundy,* brought him news that the 
 French army was hard by, being nothing else but a fteld full 
 of high thistles, whose tops they mistook for so many spears : 
 on lesser grounds this tyrant conceives greater fears. Thus in 
 vain doth he seek to fence himself from without, whose foe is 
 within him. 
 
 9. He is glad to patch up a had nighfs sleep out of pieces 
 of slumber. They seldom sleep soundly, who have blood for 
 their bolster. His fancy presents him with strange masks, 
 wherein only fiends and furies are actors. The fright awakes 
 him, and he is no sooner glad that it was a dream> but fears 
 it is prophetical. 
 
 * Comineus, Comment, lib. 1. juxta finem. 
 
THE TYRANT. 345 
 
 10. In vain he courts the friendship of foreign princes. 
 They defy his amity, and will not join their clean hands with 
 his bloody ones. Sometimes to ingratiate himself, he doth 
 some good acts, but virtue becomes him worse than vice, for 
 all know he counterfeits it for his own ends. 
 
 11. Having lived in other men's bloody he dies commonly in 
 his own. He had his will all his life, but seldom makes his 
 testament at his death, being suddenly taken away either by 
 private hand or public insurrection. It is observed of the 
 camel that it lies quietly down till it hath its full load, and 
 then riseth up. But this vulgus is a kind of a beast, which 
 riseth up soonest when it is overladen ; immoderate cruelty 
 causing it to rebel. Fero is a litter motto than Ferio for 
 Christians in their carriage towards lawful authority, though 
 unlawfully used. 
 
 We will give a double example of a tyrant : the one an 
 absolute sovereign, the other a substitute or viceroy under an 
 absolute prince. 
 
 XVIII. — The Life of Andronicus; or the 
 Unfortunate Politician. 
 
 1 . A LEXIUS Comnenus, only son of Manuel Comnenus^ 
 succeeded his father in the empire of Constantinople 
 in 1179. A child he was in age and judgment ; of wit too 
 short to measure an honourable sport, but lost himself in low 
 delights. He hated a book more than a monster did a look- 
 ing-glass, and when his tutor endeavoured to play him into 
 scholarship, by presenting pleasant authors unto him, he re- 
 turned, that learning was beneath the greatness of a prince, 
 who, if wanting it, might borrow it from his subjects, being 
 better stored ; for, saith he, if they will not lend me their 
 brains, Til take aiuay their heads. Yea, he allowed no other 
 library than a full stored cellar, resembling the butts to 
 folios, barrels to quartos, smaller runlets to less volumes ; 
 and studied away his time, with base company, in such de- 
 bauchedness. 
 
 2. Leave we Alexius drowning his care, or rather careless- 
 ness in wine, to behold Xene his mother, the regent empress, 
 surfeiting also in pleasure with her husband Proto-Sebastus, 
 who had married her since the decease of Manuel, her late 
 
346 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 husband. This Proto-Sebastus, a better stallion than war- 
 horse, was a perfect epicure (so that Apitius, in comparison 
 of him, was a churl to starve himself), better at his palate 
 than his tongue, yet better at his tongue than his arms, being 
 a notorious coward. He, with the empress, conspired to the 
 dissolute education of young Alexius, keeping him in constant 
 ignorance of himself, their strength consisting in his weakness, 
 who, had he been bred to understand his own power, might 
 probably have curbed their exorbitances. 
 
 3. The body of the Grecian state, at this time, must needs 
 be strangely distempered under such heads. Preferment was 
 only scattered amongst parasites, for them to scramble for it. 
 The court had as many factions as lords, save that all their di- 
 visions united themselves in a general viciousness ; and that 
 Theodorus, the patriarch, was scoffed at by all as an antic, 
 for using goodness when it was out of fashion ; and was ad- 
 judged impudent for presuming to be pious alone by him- 
 self. 
 
 4. As for the city of Constantinople, the chief seat of the 
 Grecian empire, she had enjoyed happiness so long, that now 
 she pleaded prescription for prosperity. Because living in 
 peace time out of mind, she conceived it rather a wrong to 
 have constant quiet denied, than a favour from heaven, to 
 have it continued unto her. Indeed she was gro^n sick of 
 a surfeit of health, and afterwards was broken with having 
 too much riches. For instead of honest industry, and pain- 
 ful thrift, which first caused the greatness of this city, now, 
 flowing with wealth, there was nothing therein but the swel- 
 ling of pride, the boiling of lust, the fretting of envy, and the 
 squeezing of oppression. So that should their dead ancestors 
 arise, they would be puzzled to see Constantinople for it- 
 self, except they were directed thereunto by the ruins of St. 
 Sophia's temple. True, it was some years since upon a great 
 famine, some hopes were given of a general amendment ; 
 during which time riot began to grow thrifty, pride to go 
 plain, gluttons to fast, and wantons were starved into tem- 
 perance. But forced reformation will last no longer than the 
 violent cause thereof doth continue. For soon after, when 
 plenty was again restored, they relapsed to their former bad- 
 ness, yea, afterwards became fouler for the purge, and more 
 wanton for the rod, when it was removed. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 347 
 
 5. Now there was an anti-faction in the Grecian empire, 
 maintained by some lords of ancient extraction, who were 
 highly offended at the great power which Proto-Sebastus and 
 L. Xene, the empress, usurped to themselves ; and, meeting 
 privately together, Andronicus Lapardas, as prolocutor for the 
 rest, vented his discontentment, complaining it was more than 
 high time that they now awake out of the lethargy of security 
 into which, by fools' lullabys, tliey had cozened themselves. 
 That they in the empire, who have most at the stake, are 
 made only lookers on ; sometimes admitted to the council, out 
 of compliment, and for countenance barely to concur : but 
 for the main kept in ignorance of most material passages. 
 That their names are all branded for death^ and that no love 
 to their persons, but fear of what might follow, had hitherto 
 secured their lives. In a word, that they must speedily re- 
 solve on some projects for their protection, or else they should 
 approve themselves heirs to Epimetheus, who is not found to 
 have left any land unto his sons, but only to have bequeathed 
 a useless sorrow unto them for their portion. 
 
 6. Hereupon they entered into a strict combination with 
 themselves secretly, vowing that they would improve their 
 utmost might to bring in Andronicus Comnenus, a prince of 
 the blood, one of great parts and abilities (but lately banish- 
 ed out of the empire), to counterpoise the power of Proto- 
 Sebastus, and to free young Alexius from the wardship of 
 such as abused him. We will present the reader with a list 
 of their titles and offices who were engaged in this design ; 
 entreating him not to be offended with us because of the 
 hardness and length of their names, but rather with their god- 
 fathers who christened them. We have an English proverb 
 that bones bring meat to town ; and those who are desirous to 
 feast themselves on the pleasant and profitable passages of 
 history, must be content sometime to stoop their stomachs to 
 feed on hard words, which bring matter along with them. 
 
 7. First, Maria Prophyrogenita Caesarissa, daughter to 
 Manuel the late emperor, by a former wife, half sister to 
 Alexius the young emperor. 
 
 2. Caesar, her husband, an Italian lord, who was so 
 overtopped with the high birth and spirit of his wife, that 
 in this history we find him not grown much above the bare 
 mention of his name. 
 
348 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 3. Conto-Stephanus, the great duke, admiral of the 
 galleys. 
 
 4. Camaterus Basilius, president of the city. 
 
 5. Hagiochristophorites Stephanus, captain of the guard. 
 
 6. Disypatus Georgius, lecturer in the great church (a 
 higher office than the modern acceptation of the word doth 
 imply). 
 
 7. Tripsycus Constantinus, one of the most noble ex- 
 tractions. 
 
 8. Macroducas Constantinus, no whit inferior to him in 
 pedigree or power. 
 
 9. Andronicus Lapardas, formerly mentioned, together 
 with the aforesaid. 
 
 10. Theodorus the patriarch, last named, because least 
 interested. For in matters of piety he was governed by his 
 conscience; but in matters of policy by good company, 
 being therein himself utterly unskilled : and strangers m 
 unknown ways commonly follow the most beaten tract 
 of others before them. All these joined in a league to 
 bring Andronicus home to Constantinople, who, what he 
 was, and how qualified, we will not forestall ; the reader 
 conceiving it, though something painful, yet more healthful 
 for him to gain his character by degrees in the sequel of 
 his actions, wherein he will sufficiently discover himself 
 without our description of him. 
 
 8. Now Maria Csesarissa was employed unto Andronicus 
 (having ability in herself, and advantage by her sex for the 
 cunning carriage of the matter) to acquaint him with their 
 designs. She coming to GEnaeum, where he lived in banish- 
 ment, informed him of the general discontent in the Grecian 
 empire : and how those who basely served Xene, did only 
 command in the state. That, besides those great persons^ 
 whose names she presented in writing, many others, as yet 
 scrupulous neuters, would have their doubts fully satisfied, 
 and declare on his side when they saw him appear with a 
 powerful army. That it would be a meritorious work to 
 enfranchise his kinsman Alexius from their slavery, where- 
 under he and the Grecian empire did groan. 
 
 9. Welcome was that invitation to Andronicus, to be re- 
 quested to do what of himself he desired. How wilhngly 
 doth the fire fly upwards, especially when employed to Jill 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 349 
 
 up a vucuitij ; because then doing three good offices with one 
 motion ; namely, expressing its dutifulness to the dictates of 
 dame nature ; and contributing, in case of necessity, to the 
 preservation of the universe ; and pleasing its own peculiar 
 tendency, which delights in ascending : such now the condi- 
 tion of Andronicus, who, in this undertaking, would shew 
 courteous in granting the request of his friends, appear pious 
 in promoting the general good, and withal satisfy the appetite 
 of his own ambition and revenge. Wherefore with treasure, 
 whereof he had plenty, he provided men and arms, and pre- 
 pared with all speed for the expedition. 
 
 10. But he could not be more busy about his war than 
 Xene was employed about her wantonness, counting in life 
 all spilt that was not sport, who, to revenge herself on envious 
 death, meant in mirth to make herself reparation, for the 
 shortness of her life. That time which flieth of itself, she 
 sought to drive away with unlawful recreations. And though 
 music did jar, and mirth was profaneness, at this present time, 
 wherein all did feel what was bad, and fear what was worse, 
 yet she by wanton songs (panders to lust) and other provoca- 
 tives, did awaken the sleepy sparks of her corruption into a 
 flame of open wickedness. 
 
 11. But it was a great and sudden abatement to her jollity 
 to hear that Andronicus, with a puissant army, was approach- 
 ing the city. Alexius Proto-Sebastus, her minion, did woo 
 all people to make resistance. But he found abundance of 
 neuters, of that lukewarm temper which heaven and hell 
 doth hate, who would not out of their houses, but stay at 
 home and side with neither party ;* these did maintain that 
 the public good was nothing but the result of many men's 
 particular good, and therefore held that, in saving their own, 
 they advanced the general; indeed, they hoped, though the 
 great vessel of the state was wrecked, in a private fly-boat of 
 neutrality, to waft their own adventure safe to the shore. 
 But whoever saw dancers on ropes so equally to poise them- 
 selves, but at last they fell down and brake their necks? 
 And we will take the boldness to point at these hereafter, and 
 to shew what was their success. 
 
 * 'Err oiKov fxovov Ka^fj^ai, Kai firjStvi TrpocTi^t^ai twv 
 
350 ^THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 12. The best thing which befriended Proto-Sebastus, next 
 to his own money, was the obliging disposition of Xene. She 
 had as many nets as gestures to catch affections in, and with 
 her smiles did not only press, but pay all carpet knights and 
 amorous persons to be of her party. The city of Constanti- 
 nople was thrice walled, with wood, stones, and bones, plenty 
 of shipping, artificial fortifications, and multitudes of men. 
 The worst was, their arsenal was a goodly stable of gallant 
 wooden horses, but they wanted riders to manage them ; the 
 Grecians at this time being very simple seamen, though na- 
 ture may seem both to woo and teach them to be skilful ma- 
 riners, by affording them plenty of safe harbours. However, 
 the Grecians conceiving navigation beneath their honour, 
 which indeed was above their industry, resigned the benefit of 
 trading in their own seas to the Italians of Pisa, Genoa, Flo- 
 rence, and Venice. Proto-Sebastus hired mercenary mari- 
 ners of these, and with them manned his ships, stopping the 
 passages of Propontis, by which Andronicus, coming from 
 Paphlagonia out of the Lesser Asia, was to pass. 
 
 13. But now an admiral was to be provided for his navy : 
 Conto-Stephanus, the great duke, formerly mentioned, chal- 
 lenged the place as proper to himself, scorning to be made 
 a stale to wear the style in peace, and not to execute the office 
 in war, when occasion was offered to shew his valour and 
 serve his country. What should Proto-Sebastus do ? It is 
 equally dangerous to offend or employ him. Yet he re- 
 solves on the latter, not willing to teach him to be dishonest 
 by suspecting him, conceiving it to be an engagement, on a 
 noble nature to be trusty, because he was trusted. But he 
 no sooner received the charge but he betrayed the galleys to 
 Andronicus, whereby in an instant he was made master of all 
 those seas. The news whereof being brought to the city, 
 what riding, what running, what packing, what posting ! 
 Happy he that could trip up his neighbour's heels to get first 
 into the favour of Andronicus. Many that staked their wives 
 and children at home in the city, had laid good bets abroad 
 on the opposite party. 
 
 14. Andronicus being easily wafted over, comes to the 
 gates of Constantinople. Here, to oppose him, there was 
 rather a skirmish than a fight, or rather a flourish than a skir- 
 mish, the land forces consisting of two sorts. First, old sol- 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 351 
 diers, who, formerly having been notorious plunderers, had 
 their arms so pressed down with the weight of the people's 
 just curses, that they could not lift up their swords to any 
 purpose, but having formerly preyed on their friends, were 
 made a prey to their foes ; secondly, citizens, used only to 
 traverse their shops, and unacquainted with military per- 
 formances. The city, once entered, was instantly conquered, 
 whose strength was much overfamed : such populous places, 
 like unwieldy bodies, sink with their own weight. 
 
 15. Proto-Sebastus was taken prisoner, and was kept some 
 days and nights waking, being pinched when once offering to 
 shut his eyes ; a torment which we meet not with to be used 
 to so high a person, though, they say, of late in fashion for the 
 discovery of witches. 
 
 But to put him out of his pain, Andronicus is conceived by 
 some merciful unto him, in causing his eyes to be bored out, 
 seeing it was less torture not to see than not to sleep ; so much 
 for this great coward, though this, his character ^ cannot be 
 guessed from his demeanour herein, seeing a better soldier 
 might have been worsted in this expedition against forces of 
 open foes, and fraud of seeming friends, it being impossible 
 to make them fight who are resolved to fly. 
 
 16. The army thus entering the city, some outrages they 
 must of course commit, but those, neither for number or na- 
 ture, such as might have been expected : for when a place is 
 taken by assault, the most strict commanders are not able to 
 keep the mouths of their soldiers' swords fasting, but may be 
 commended for moderate, if they feed not to a surfeit : be- 
 sides, such was the infinite wealth of Constantinople, her 
 treasures would tempt the fingers of saints, much more of 
 soldiers; the Paphlagonians, whereof the army consisted, 
 vowed, that seeing their swords had done so good service, 
 they would make hilts of gold for their blades of steel. 
 
 17. There was then inhabiting in the city of Constantino- 
 ple multitudes of Franks (understand French, Germans, and 
 principally Italians), so that well might this city be called 
 New Rome, from the abundance of Latins that lived therein ; 
 these, fiirst, by manufactures, and then by merchandize, got 
 great wealth (their diligence being more, and luxury less, than 
 the Greeks), insomuch that they engrossed all trading to thefti- 
 selves. This attracted the envy of the natives, that strangers 
 
352 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 should suck Uie marrow of the state, alleging that, in process 
 of time, the ivy would grow to be an oak, and those prove 
 absolute in their own power, who, at first, were dependent 
 for their protection. Andronicus, with something more than 
 a bare connivance, though less than a full command, freely 
 consigned these Franks over to the rapine of his army. 
 
 18. Such of them as were related by former friendship or alli- 
 ance to the Grecians, fled to them for shelter, who, instead of 
 preserving, persecuted them, their company being conceived 
 infectious, lest it should bring the plague of the soldiers' 
 fury along with it. And who finds a faithful friend in miseiy ? 
 All their goods were spoiled, and most of their lives spilled, 
 save such as formerly had escaped by flight to their ships. 
 Tims Andronicus found a cheap way both to pay his soldiers 
 and please the people, who counted him an excellent physician 
 of the state, and this a great cure done by him, in purging the 
 superfluous, yea, noxious aliens out of the city. Indeed, 
 careful he was to preserve the city itself from spoiling, as 
 having then a squint eye at the empire; and, knowing Con- 
 stantinople to be the seat thereof, he would not deface that 
 fair chair into which, in due time, he hoped himself to sit 
 down. 
 
 (1180.) 1. Andronicus being thus peaceably possessed of 
 Constantinople, first made his humble address to the young 
 emperor Alexius, and ceremoniously kissed his feet. The 
 spectators variously commented on his prodigious humility 
 therein, some conceiving he meant to build high because he 
 began so low ; others thinking that their toes had need beware 
 the cramp whose feet he kissed. 
 
 2. The next stage whereon his hypocrisy acted, was the 
 great church itself, where, meeting Theodorus the patriarch 
 at the door, he encountered him with transcendent courtship, 
 protesting that in him he beheld the pattern of St. Chrysostom, 
 his famous predecessor; it being questionable whether that 
 worthy father did more truly survive in the learned books he 
 left to posterity, or in the looks and life of Theodorus. And 
 whilst the patriarch was meditating a modest reply, Andro- 
 nicus did pour compliments so full and fast upon him, that, 
 stifled therewith, he could breathe no answer in return, but 
 only fell into a swoon of amazement. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 3.53 
 
 3. Hence he advanced into the choir, unto the monument 
 of Manuel his kinsman, and late emperor. At sight whereof, 
 the tears trickled down his reverend cheeks, as if they had 
 run a race which of them should be the foremost : some in- 
 terpreted this the love which Andronicus bore to the memory 
 of the dead emperor ; and others feared, that as the moist 
 dropping of stones is the forerunner of foul weather, so this 
 relenting of his hard heart presaged some storm to follow 
 after in the state. Then coming to Manuel's tomb, ordering 
 his voice so low as seeming he might not be, and yet so 
 loud as certain he was heard what he spake, he expressed 
 himself to this effect : 
 
 4. Dear Manuel, my loyalty stykf; thee sovereign, but my 
 blood calls thee cousin. I will not say it was thy fault, but 
 my fate, not to have my love to thee understood, according to 
 the integrity of my intentions. My innocence, by thee, was 
 banished into a far country. The burthen did not grieve me, 
 but the hand that laid it on ; not so much to be an exile, as an 
 exile made by thee. However, all my revenge unto thee shall 
 be in advancing the honour and safety of thy son Alexius, to 
 free whose innocence from the abuse of his friend-pretended 
 enemies, I have embarked myself in a dangerous and despe- 
 rate design: yea, my manifold infirmities, of which I am 
 most conscious, grieve me not so much in my own behalf, as 
 because thereby I am rendered disable ff^om being serviceable 
 to your son, in so high a degr^ee as I desire. 
 
 5. Then sinking his voice, past possibility of being over- 
 heard, he continued : Base, bloody hound, which chaseth me 
 from place to place. I here arrest thy drowsy ashes, it being 
 note past thy power to break th is marble chest. I scorn to un- 
 grave thy dust (wishing that all my enemies were as sumptu- 
 ously entombed), but thy son, wife, daughter, favourites, 
 friends, name, and memory, I will utterly destroy. The 
 poefs fancy begat three furies in hell, and I will be the fourth 
 on earth. 
 
 6. Some will demand how we came to the knowledge of 
 this speech, being so secretly delivered ? It is answered, it 
 is impossible, some invisible ear might lie in ambush within 
 the ear-reach of his words. Besides, let me not be chal- 
 lenged for a libel, who can produce the party from whom I 
 received it; and, amongst others, discharge myself on one 
 
 A A 
 
354 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 principal author of excellent credit * Though I believe that 
 this speech was never taken from the original of Andronicus' 
 mouth, but was translated from the black copy of his wicked 
 actions which afterward he committed. 
 
 7. His devotions ended, he retired to his own house, and 
 there lived very privately, as renouncing all worldly pomp 
 and pleasure, whilst his engineers, underhand, were very 
 active to procure the empire for him, which was thus con- 
 trived : a petition was drawn, in the name of all the people, 
 requesting Andronicus that he would be pleased, for the good 
 of the state, to be chosen joint emperor with Alexius. This 
 was subscribed by the principal men in every place, and then 
 herds of silly souls did the like. They never consulted with 
 the contents of the paper, whether it was bond, bill, libel, or 
 petition, but thought it a sin not to score their marks where 
 they were told their betters had gone before them. At first 
 they wanted names for their parchment, but afterward parch- 
 ment for their names. Here it would be tedious to recount 
 what sleights and forgeries were used herein. If any delayed 
 to subscribe, they were presently urged with great men's pre- 
 cedents ; that it was superstition to be more holy than the 
 bishops; rigour, to be more just than the judges; malapert- 
 ness, to pretend to more wisdom than so many statesmen who 
 had already signed it. And thus, many fearful souls were 
 compelled to consent by the tyranny of others' examples. 
 Indeed, some few there were who durst be honest, whose 
 souls did stand on a basis of their own judgments, without 
 leaning with implicit faith on others. These disavowed this 
 state bigamy, protesting against the co-empireship of Andro- 
 nicus, and boldly atfirming that crowns take a master if they 
 accept a mate. But then all their names were returned unto 
 Andronicus, who registered them in his black calendar, who 
 for the present did remember, and for the future would requite 
 them. 
 
 8. The principal agent that openly promoted this business 
 was Basilius, a bishop, one that professed heaven and prac- 
 tised earth, much meddling in temporal matters, being both 
 lewd and lazy in his own profession : only herein he had the 
 
 Nicetas Coniates, in Vita Alexii nuraero, 16. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 355 
 character of a good churchman, that bi/ his preaching and 
 living he set forth his office accordingly. 
 
 9. And now the scene being covertly laid, in a solemn as- 
 sembly, on a high festival, this bishop, as the mouth of the 
 rest, whose names he held in a parchment roll, represented 
 to Andronicus the sincere intentions and earnest wishes of 
 the state ; most humbly requesting him, that he would be 
 pleased so far to ease the tender years of his dear kinsman, 
 young Alexius, as to bear half the burthen of the crown, and 
 to accept to be joint emperor with him : presuming, that such 
 was the goodness and humility of Andronicus, that he would 
 not disdain a part, though he did deserve the whole; and 
 after a long oration concluded : Thus anciently the Roman 
 senate coupled old delaying Fabius with over-hasty Marcel- 
 lus, blending youth with age, the swift with slow ; wholesome 
 mixture, when the one brought eyes, the other hands ; the one 
 was for advice, the other for action. And thus alone it is pos- 
 sible that the distempered state of the Grecian empire, at this 
 present, can be cured with this cordial and sacred composition, 
 of the gravity of your highness, to temper the green years of 
 Alexius. 
 
 10. Hereat Andronicus discovered a strangeness in his 
 looks, as if he had needed an interpreter to understand the 
 language which was spoken unto him ; and after some pause 
 proceeded : Let me nut be censured for unmannerly in not 
 returning my thanks, having my soul for the present possest 
 with a higher e uployment of admiration, that so many aged 
 statesmen, as inch in wisdom as years, should be so much mis- 
 taken in my abilities as to conceive me in any degree Jit for 
 the moiety of a crown. Go, choose some gallant, whose very 
 fesh is steel, can march all day, and watch all night, whose 
 vast achievements may add honour unto your empire. Alas I 
 my pale face, lean cheeks, dim eyes, faint heart, iveak Itgs, 
 speak mefitfor no crown, but a coffin, no royal robes, but a 
 winding-sheet. Nor am I ashamed to confess that my youth 
 hath been exceeding vicious, wherein I spared the devil the pains 
 if courting me, by preferring myself to his service ; and now 
 it is my only joy, with gritf to recollect my former wicked- 
 ness. Of late 1 have found out a small private place (call it 
 as you please, least of cells, or greatest of graves) wherein I 
 intend wholly to devote the remnant of my life to meditation 
 
356 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 of mortality. For seeing naturally ourselves are too deeply 
 rooted in earthliness, it is good to loosen them a little before, 
 that so by death they may be plucked up with the more easi- 
 ness; not that wilfully, either out of laziness or suUenness, I 
 decline to serve my country, which claims a share in me. But 
 though I know I am not to live for myself, I am to die to 
 myself, and may now at this age justly challenge to myself a 
 writ of ease_/)'om all worldly employment. 
 
 11. But Basilius perceiving that he did but compliment a 
 denial, pressed him with the greater importunity: confessing 
 it would torment the modesty of his highness to be told how- 
 high the audit of his virtues did amount, knowing that he 
 desired rather to deserve than hear his own commendations. 
 But withal, instantly entreated him to remember what he full 
 well understood, that the entreaties of a whole state had the 
 power of commands, and that heaven itself was not so im- 
 pregnable but that it might be battered open by the impor- 
 tunity of poor petitioners ; that from his acceptance of this, 
 their humble proffer, they should hereafter date the beginning 
 of their happiness ; that this day should stand in the front of 
 their almanacks, and in scarlet text, as a leader, command 
 over the rest, which followed it, as the new birth-day of the 
 Grecian empire. 
 
 12. However, at that present nothing more was effected, 
 and because it was late the assembly was dismissed, only 
 some principal persons were appointed ^^•ith their private per- 
 suasions, to mollify the stiffness of Andronicus, who prevailed 
 so far, that meeting next morning in the full concourse of all 
 sorts of people, Andronicus first loosened the vizard of his 
 dissimulation for a time, letting it fairly hang by ; at last it 
 fell off of its own accord, and thankfully accepted their shouts 
 and exclamations, with God save Alexius akd Androni- 
 cus, JOINT Emperors of Greece ! 
 
 13. Then, mounted on a high tribunal, he made an elo- 
 quent oration, as indeed he was not only sweet but luscious 
 in his language, and with the circles of fine phrases could 
 charm any stranger both into love and admiration of his per- 
 son. Smiling, with a pleasant countenance, he told them 
 that he conceived his ow^n condition was represented in the 
 eagle, displayed in the imperial standard : for, as naturalists 
 report, that sovereign of birds renews his age, so he seemed 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 357 
 
 to himself grown young again ; as if the heavens had bestown 
 upon him new shoulders for new burdens. And seeing it 
 was their pleasure to elect him to the place, he promised to 
 rescue right out of the paws of oppression, to be the only master 
 of requests : so that all complaints should have free access to 
 him, and, if just, redress from him. But especially he would 
 be careful of his own conversation, intending (grace assisting 
 him) to have a law in his own example. In a word, his speech 
 was all excellent good in itself, save for this only fault, that 
 not one syllable thereof was either truly intended or really 
 performed. 
 
 14. The solemnities of his coronation were performed in 
 great state, with much pomp and expense ; and we may ob- 
 serve, that the coronations of usurpers are generally more 
 gorgeous in their celebrations than those of lawful princes. 
 For usurpers, out of excessive joy of what they have unde- 
 servedly gotten, care not what cost they lavish. Besides, 
 ceremonies are more substantial to them, to tell the world 
 what they are, who otherwise would take less notice of them, 
 as not entitled, by any right, to the place they possess; 
 whereas kings, on whose heads crowns are dropped from 
 heaven, by lineal descent, often save superfluous charges, at 
 their coronation, as being but a bare ceremony, deriidng or 
 adding no right unto them, but only clearing and declaring 
 the same to others. 
 
 15, The noise of the people's shouts did alarm young Ale- 
 xius, who hitherto was fast sleeping in some obscure comer, 
 and little dreamt that meanwhile an empire was stolen away 
 from him. But now coming to Andronicus, he publicly 
 congratulated his happiness, and with a smiling countenance 
 embraced him as heartily glad that he had gotten so good a 
 companion in so great an employment. We read, that in the 
 country of Lithuania there is a peculiar custom, that married 
 men have adjutores tori, helpers of the marriage bed, who 
 by their consent lie with their wives ; and these husbands are 
 so far from conceiving either hatred or jealousy against them, 
 that they esteem them their principal friends. Surely the beds 
 in that country are bigger than in other places : seeing amongst 
 all other nations a wife is a vessel wherein the cape-merchant 
 will not admit any adventurers to share with him. It seems 
 Alexius was one of this Lithuanian temper, that could accept 
 
358 rnEPROFAXE STATE. 
 
 a partner in his empire, tickled witli joy at the shows and so- 
 lemnities of his coronation : and well might he laugh till his 
 heart did ache, though some did verily think that amongst all 
 the pageants tliere presented, he himself was the strangest and 
 most ridiculous spectacle. As for Xene, the empress, she ap- 
 peared not at all in public, being pensire at home, having 
 almost wept out her own eyes because Proto-Sebastus had his 
 bored out. 
 
 16. Next, ever)- day in all patents and public receipts, their 
 names were transposed. First Andronicus, and then Alexius, 
 this reason being rendered, that it was unfitting that a youth 
 should be preferred before so grave and reverend an old man : 
 or rather, because, as in numeration, the figure is to be put 
 before the cipher. Here some of the friends of Alexius pro- 
 pounded to stop the ambition of Andronicus, before the gan- 
 grene thereof spread further; seeing what he received did not 
 s;itisfy, but enlarge his proud breast, prompting new thoughts 
 unto him, and widening his heart for higher desires. The mo- 
 tion found many to praise, but not to practise it ; none would 
 do what all desired were done. The younger sort conceived 
 that this office, because dangerous, was most proper for old 
 men to undertake, who need not to be tlirifty of their hves, 
 seeing it was too late to spare at the bottom. Old men were 
 of the opinion it best beseemed the boldness and activity of 
 youth : and such as were of middle age did partake of the ex- 
 cuses of both. Thus, in a project that is apparently desperate, 
 even those who are proudest on tlieir terms of honour, will be 
 so humble as in modesty to let meanei- men go before them. 
 
 17. As for the lords of the combination, v^ho first prociued 
 Andronicus' coming to Constantinople, they found themselves 
 that they now had far overshot the mark they aimed at. For 
 they intended only to use him for the present, to humble and 
 abate the pride and power of Proto-Sebastus. U hich done, 
 they meant either wholly to remove, or warily to confine him. 
 But now what they chose for physic must be given them for 
 daily food : and woful is the condition of that man who, in 
 case of necessity.-, taking hot water to prevent swooning, must 
 ever after drink it for beverage, even to the burning out of his 
 bowels. For Andronicus, though he came in as a tenant at 
 will, would hold his place in fee to himself and his heirs : and 
 w!iereas the aforesaid lords promised themselves, if not ad- 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 359 
 
 vancement to new, assurance to their old offices, they found 
 themselves preferred to nothing but neglect and contempt ; 
 neither entrusted in the advice nor employed in the execu- 
 tion of any matters of moment. 
 
 18. Indeed Andronicus did loathe the sight of those lords, 
 as debtors do of bailiffs, as if their very looks did arrest him 
 to pay for those grand favours which he had formerly received 
 from them, brought by their help from banishment, to power 
 and wealth in the city. Nor would he make use of them, as 
 too sturdy to be pliable to his projects ; standing on their 
 former deserts and present dignities; but employed those 
 osiers of his own planting, which might be easily wreathed to 
 all purposes, being base upstarts, depending on his absolute 
 pleasure : and as he used these alone, so these only in matter 
 of execution ; who taking himself, and therein not mistaken, 
 to be sole friend to himself, would not impart his counsels to 
 any one, being wont to say that ships sink as deep with one 
 as with one hundred leaks. 
 
 19. We will conclude this book with an independent story, 
 hoping the reader will take it as we find it. There was a noted 
 beggar in Constantinople, well known to the people there- 
 abouts, as who had almost worn the thresholds of noblemen's 
 doors as bare as his own clothes, an exceeding tall, raw-boned 
 body, with a meagre and lank belly, so that he might have 
 passed for famine itself. This man was found begging about 
 the lodgings of Andronicus very late at night, at an unsea- 
 sonable hour, except one would say that men of his profes- 
 sion, as they are never out of their way, so they are never out 
 of their time, but may seasonably beg at any hour when they 
 are hungry. Being apprehended at the guard, and accused for 
 aconjurer, his ugly face being all the evidence against him, An- 
 dronicus delivered him over to the indiscreet discretion of the 
 people to do with him as they pleased. These wild justicers, 
 without legal proof or further proceeding, for alms bestowed 
 on him a pile of wood and a great fire, where they burnt him 
 to ashes, whose fact might justly have entitled him to a whip- 
 ping-post, but not to a stake. 
 
 20. Say not that this is beneath our history, to insert the 
 death of a beggar in the life of an emperor : for all innocents 
 are equal in the court of heaven ; and this poor man, who whilst 
 alive was so loud at great men's doors, for meat to preserve 
 
360 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 his life, his blood may be presumed to be as crying and cla- 
 morous at the gates of heaven to revenge his death. For herein 
 Andronicus taught the people to be tyrannical, a needless les- 
 son to such apt scholars, who afterwards proved proficients 
 herein, to the cost of their teacher, as, God willing, shall be 
 shewed hereafter. 
 
 (An. Dom. 1181.) — 1. The news of Andronicus his being 
 chosen joint emperor, no sooner arrived at the ears of Maria 
 Caesarissa, but she was drowned in a deluge of grief : being 
 beholden to nature that she could vent herself in tears, seeing 
 that sorrow which cannot bleed in the eyes, doth commonly 
 fester in the heart. And when her nurse lovingly chid her for 
 excessive sadness, she pleaded her sex, which can scarce do 
 any thing without overdoing ; so that feminine passions must 
 either not be full or overflow. 
 
 2. But anger, soon after having got the conquest of her 
 own grief, with furious speed she repaired to the place where 
 the lo7'ds of the combinntian were assembled, and there she 
 abruptly vented herself in these expressions : 
 
 3. Greece is grown barbarous, and quite bereft of its for- 
 mer worth ; not so much as the ruins of valour left in you, to 
 reach foj^th unto posterity any signs that you were extracted 
 from brave ancestors. Time was, when the Grecian youth 
 adventured for the golden fleece ; you may now adventure for 
 the ass^s skin, the dull emblem of your own conditions : the 
 merry Greek hath now drowned the proverb of the valiant 
 Greek. Tame traitors all! thut could behold an usurper 
 mate and check your law ful emperor, and neither wag hand or 
 toyigue in opposition. Did 7ny father Manuel for this im- 
 pair his own to raise your estates? He made you honourable 
 and great: Oh, that he could have made you grateful ! The 
 best is, your very si7i will be your punishment. And though 
 i/our practice hath been so base, your judgment cannot be so 
 blind as to believe that your channels of nobility can have a 
 >itream, when the fountain of honour is dammed up by your 
 unworthiness. 
 
 4. Tlie lords, though by their silence they seemed first to 
 swallow her words, yet expression of tame traitors would not 
 go down tlieir throats ; the largest souls being narrowest in 
 point of credit, and soonest choked with a disgrace. Ma- 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 361 
 malus, therefore, in the behalf of the rest ; Madam, said he, 
 sufficeth it now for us barely to deny your speech. Hud you 
 been a man, we should have proceeded to defy the speaker. 
 What your passion now condemns in us for base, your judg- 
 ment will not only acquit for right, and approve for safe, 
 hut even commend for honourable, and advantageous for our 
 master Alexius. Our lives and lands are at the sole dispose 
 and the cruel mercy of our enemies. We are instantly undone 
 if we whisper the least and lowest syllable of loyalty, and 
 utterly disabled from any future service to Alexius. We con- 
 ceive it, therefore, better for a time to bow to our foes, rather 
 than to be broken by them ; to spare in words, and spend 
 ivhat we please in thoughts. We want not a will, but wait 
 a time, to express our ideality to the emperor, with most safety 
 to ourselves, and effect for him, in a season least subject to 
 suspicion. 
 
 5. Pacified by these words, she was contented to attend 
 the performance of the promise, in time convenient ; though 
 never living so long as to behold it, being prevented by vio- 
 lent death. For now Andronicus began freely to rage in 
 innocent blood, cutting off such nobles as he thought would 
 oppose him. Something like truth was alleged against them, 
 to stop the clamours of the multitude. And power never 
 wants pretences, and those legal, to compass what it doth de- 
 sire. Tliey were indicted of conspiracy against Andronicus ; 
 and knights of the post, of the devil's own dubbing, did de - 
 pose it against them. Yea, silence was not enough to pre- 
 serve men's innocence : some being accused that their noses 
 did wrinkle, or their eyes wink, or their foreheads frown, or 
 their fingers snap treason against Andronicus. 
 
 6. In this his epidemical cruelty it was much that a famous 
 jester of the court escaped his fury. Of this fellow, his body 
 downwards was a fool, his head a knave, who did carefully 
 note, and cunningly vent, by the privileges of his coat, many 
 state-passages, uttering them in a wary twilight, betwixt 
 sport and earnest. But belike, Andronicus would not break 
 himself by stooping to so low revenge, and made conscience 
 in not breaking the ancient charter of jesters, though wronging 
 the liberty of others of greater concernment. 
 
 7. Of such as were brought to public execution, it was 
 strange to behold the difference of their demeanour. Some, 
 
362 THE PROFANE STATE, 
 
 who were able to be miserable, with an undaunted mind did 
 become their afflictions, and by their patience made their 
 miseries to smile, not bowing their souls beneath themselves, 
 only appealing for justice in another world. Others did 
 foolishly rage and ramp, mustering whole legions of curses, 
 as if therewith to make the axe turn edge. And then seeing 
 no remedy but death, their souls did not bow by degrees, but 
 fell flat in an instant; of lions turning calves, half dead with 
 fear, received the fatal stroke of the executioner. So many 
 were confusedly huddled to death, it is hard to rank them in 
 order, only we will insist on some principal persons. 
 
 8. First, Maria Csesarissa, and her husband (whether it 
 was conscience or manners not to part man and wife), and 
 because Andronicus durst not, for fear of the people, bring 
 them to public death, their physician was bribed with gold, 
 which he conceived cordial for himself ; and thereupon he 
 did quickly purge out both their souls by poison, an unsus- 
 pected way, which robs men of their lives, and yet never bids 
 them to stand. 
 
 9. Next followed Xene, the mother empress, being accused 
 of high treason, for attempting to betray the city of Belgrade, 
 to Bela, king of Hungary. A packed council condemned 
 her to death, who, though otherwise vicious, was generally 
 bemoaned as most innocent in this particular. But Andro- 
 nicus the emperor, cunningly derived the whole hatred hereof 
 on young Alexius (whose power he never used or owned, but 
 only to make him the cloak-father for odious acts) urging him 
 to sign the warrant for her execution. In the stout refusal 
 whereof, Alexius shewed more constancy than was expected 
 to come from him, clearly answering all arguments, herein 
 shewing himself a child in affection, and more than a child 
 m judgment. Whereupon some ground their presumptions, 
 that his soul deserved better breeding, and that he was not to 
 be censured for weakness of capacity ; but rather his friends 
 to be condemned for want of care, and himself to be be- 
 moaned for lack of education. He flatly told Andronicus 
 that Nero was recorded monster to all ages for killing his 
 mother : and that he would never consent to her death, that 
 gave him life. 
 
 10. But he proceeded to aggravate the crime of Xene, Bel- 
 grade being such a piece of strength, that it was a whole pro- 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 363 
 vince in effect ; and though but a town in bulk, was a king- 
 dom in henejit, all Greece awfully attending the fortune 
 thereof. He minded Alexius, ih^i fathers of countries should 
 knoiu no mothers ; but that sovereigns' affections are only of 
 kin to the good and safety of their subjects. Besides, saith 
 he, you need not scruple so much at her death, who is dead 
 whilst living, and hath been many years drowned in luxury. 
 So that what was cruelty in Nero, will be exemplary justice 
 in you. 
 
 11. Alexius rejoined, that if his mother Xene was so 
 drowned in luxury, the more need she had to drown her sins 
 in penitent tears, except it were conceived charity to kill 
 botli her soul and body. That princes were not to own pri- 
 vate affections where they w^re destructive to the common 
 good, but might and must where they consisted with the 
 public safety ; or else to become a prince would be all one 
 as to leave off to be a man. Grant Belgrade a strong place ; 
 it was still in their own possession, and her intended treason 
 succeeded not. And therefore he conceived it a middle and 
 indifferent way, that she should be deprived of liberty for 
 plotting of treason, and yet be permitted to live, because the 
 plot took no effect : a cloister should be provided, whereto 
 she should be close confined, therein to do penance for her 
 former enormities. And in this sentence he conceived that 
 he impartially divided himself betwixt the affection of a child 
 and severity of a judge. 
 
 12. But Andronicus, who was resolved to have no denial, 
 highly commended him for his filial care of his mother's 
 soul : Yet, said he, /or the benefit thereof fifti^ friars, at my 
 own proper charges, shall be appointed, who, after her death, 
 night and day, i^hall daily pay their prayers in her behalf, 
 whose suffrages are as well known above, as her prayers are 
 strangers there : it being to be presumed that, whilst she is 
 living, the heavens will be deaf to her, who so long has 
 been dumb to them. Speak not of her project that it took no 
 effect ; for had it succeeded, none would have called it treason, 
 but have beheld it under a more favourable notion. He 
 minded Alexius that he had sufficient power of himself, 
 being joint emperor, to put her to death ; but that he 
 would in no case deprive him of this peerless opportunity of 
 eternizing his memory to posterity, and securing the state by 
 
364 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 his necessary severity. For all hereafter would be deterred 
 from attempting of treason, as despairing of pardon when 
 they beheld the exemplary justice on his own mother. 
 
 13. Alexius still persisting in his denial, Andronicus at 
 last fell to flat menacing, yet so cunningly carried it, that his 
 threats did not seem to proceed from any anger, but from 
 love to the person, and grief for the perverseness of Alexius. 
 He protested he would no more break his sleep, he would 
 steer the state no longer ; let even the winds and the waves 
 hereafter be the pilots to that crazy vessel. He called the 
 heavens to witness (before whom he entered a caveat to 
 preserve his own innocence), how he had tendered happi- 
 ness to Alexius, but could not force it upon him, who wil- 
 fully refused it. In a word, so passionate he was, and so 
 violent was the stream of his importunity, that the young 
 emperor, either out of weakness, or weariness to swim 
 against it, was at last carried away by the current thereof, 
 and subscribed the warrant. 
 
 14. To divert whose mind from musing upon it, a solemn 
 hunting in the country was contrived, that there he might 
 take his pleasure. In a forest not far off, a stately stag was 
 lodged, ambitious, as they told him, to fall by the hand of 
 an emperor, or else to be dubbed a hart imperial, if chancing 
 to escape. All things being ready, Alexius is carried thither ; 
 but withal, those are sent along with him who hunted this 
 hunter, marked all his motions, learned the language of his 
 looks and hands, with the different dialects of his several 
 fingers, so that he could not speak a word, or make a sign to 
 any of his faithful servants, but presently it was obser\'ed, and, 
 if material, reported to Andronicus. None of his friends 
 durst shew any discontent. If any was seen sadly to wag 
 his head, it was a certain sign that that head stood but loose 
 on his shoulders, and by the next return the news would be 
 that it was fallen off : so miserable was the condition of this 
 prince and of all his followers. 
 
 15. But Andronicus had a hind to hunt at home, and must 
 provide for the execution of Xene. And now to enter the 
 tender years of his son Manuel, for great actions, he thought 
 first to blood him with an empress, in private delivering the 
 warrant unto him. Behold here an unexpected accident ! 
 This good child of a bad father (grace can cut off the oldest 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 365 
 and strongest entail of wickedness) refused the emp^yment, 
 alleging there was no such dearth of hangmen that a prince 
 need take their office ; and that it was against his conscience, 
 her crime being rather packed than proved, seeing she was 
 never brought to answer for herself. Hereat his father, mad 
 with rage, rated and reviled him : Bastard, thou wert never 
 true eagle's bird, whose eyes are dazzled at the sun of woman's 
 beauty. What ! doth thy cowardice take sanctuary at con- 
 science? He never climbs a throne, that stands on such poor 
 pretences. What, if she never appeared to answer? Where 
 the fact itself doth C7y, it is needless for the offender to speak. 
 Narroiv-heartedfoolf a cottage is fitter for thee than an em- 
 pire. Have I pawned mine oivn soul to found thy greatness, 
 and am I thus requited? and so abruptly broke off into 
 weeping. 
 
 16. Manuel modestly returned : I am sorry, sir, you should 
 pawn your soul for my sake ; but however, I am resolved not 
 to lose my own. Whosoever climbs a throne without conscience, 
 never sits sure upon it. I had rather succeed to your private 
 paternal possession, than to an ill-gotten empire. Nor am I 
 dazzled at the lustre of her beauty, but at the clearness of her 
 innocence; all men being generally compurgators for her in- 
 tegrity herein. Employ me, and try my valour in any other 
 service. Command, and I will fetch the lion's only heir out 
 of his den, both in sight and spite of sire and dam ; only 
 herein I desire to be excused, and I hope deserve not to be 
 accounted a coward for fearing to commit a sin. How much 
 Andronicus was bemadded hereat, may easier be conceived 
 than expressed, to receive a final repulse from his own son, 
 insomuch as at the last he was fain to make use of Hagio 
 Christophorites Stephanus, captain of the guard (who alone 
 of all the lords of the combination stuck to him, and was re- 
 spected of him) and he very fairly took order to despatch her, 
 stifling her, as some say, betwixt two pillows. 
 
 17. The next news which took possession of the tongues 
 and ears of people, was the cruel and barbarous death of 
 young Alexius : whilst the vulgar did wonder that he died so 
 soon, and the wise did more admire that he lived so long ; 
 and the difference was not great betwixt him that was now 
 but a ghost, and whilst living but a shadow. Basihus went 
 too far to fetch a fit parallel out of the Roman history, to 
 
366 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 compart Andronicus and Alexius with old Fabius and 
 spriteful Marcellus ; who might have met in the same story 
 far nearer, because later by a hundred years, a more lively 
 resemblance in the consulship of Julius Caesar and Bibulus, 
 whereof the one did all, the other drank all. 
 
 18. The manner of Alexius's death was, that he had his 
 neck broken with a bowstring ; the punishment in that place, 
 as still amongst the Turks, much used ; and in this tyrant's 
 reign the string did cruelly strangle more at home, than the 
 bow did valiantly kill abroad. This bowstring, to make a 
 short digression, was an instrument whereon Andronicus 
 used to play, and sportingly to make much mirth and music 
 thereon to himself, calling it his medicine for all maladies. 
 For whereas, said he, purges were base, vomits worse, cup- 
 ping painful, glisters immodest, blood-letting cruel ; this 
 bowstring had all the opposite good qualities unto them. 
 And the same did quench the heat of fevers, drain the mois- 
 ture of dropsies, cure pleurisies without piercing a vein, stay 
 the vertigo, heal the strangury by opening the urine, and 
 only stopping the breath. This being one base humour of 
 Andronicus (unworthy civility and Christianity), to break 
 jests on men in misery, just as they were to die. As for the 
 corpse of Alexius, on whom he had practised with his fore- 
 said medicine, it was most unworthily handled ; and dead 
 bodies, though they cannot be hurt, may be wronged, espe- 
 cially of such eminent persons. 
 
 19. Now to refresh the reader amidst so many murders 
 and massacres, it will not be amiss to insert an unexpected 
 marriage. Alexius left Anna an empress dowager. And 
 some days after her husband's death, he addressed himself a 
 suitor unto her, being to encounter with invincible disadvan- 
 tages. First, he came reeking with the blood of slain Alexius, 
 And what hope could he have that she would embrace that 
 viper which had stung her other self to death ? Secondly, the 
 disproportion of his age, being past seventy ; and what motley- 
 coloured marriage would it make to join his grar/ to green ; 
 his cold November being enough to kill her flowery May ? 
 Notvvitlistanding all this, he had formerly been so fleshed 
 with fortune, he conceived he could never be lean afterwards ; 
 and knew that in matters of this nature, confidence in attempt- 
 ing is more than half the way to success. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 367 
 
 20. First, he possessed himself of her judgment, arrd made 
 her believe that all his former undertakings were in service 
 to her, grieving that Alexius did not value the pearl he wore. 
 He protested there was nothing about him old but his hairs, 
 Avhich were dyed white not by his age, but by his carefulness 
 for her preservation. Then he assaulted her affection, prin- 
 cipally pressing that argument which was never propounded 
 to a mere woman, and returned with a denial, namely, assur- 
 ing her of power and greatness, promising she should be the 
 conduit through which all his favours siiould pass, and all his 
 people under his command should be blessed or blasted by her 
 influence. Neither were gifts wanting, and those of the largest 
 size, bestowed on her servants, who promoted his cause; and 
 the dullest bodies work on the most subtile souls by the me- 
 diation of such spirits. 
 
 21. Now, whether it was out of childishness, not being 
 full fourteen ; or out of fear, being far from her friends, and 
 her person in his power ; or out of pride, loath to abate of 
 her former state ; she assented to his desire. But to speak 
 plainly, he sheweth himself to have store of leisure, and want 
 of work, who is employed to find a root in reason for all the 
 fruit that grows from fancy: sufficethit she loved him, affirming 
 it was no wonder that he should take a poor lady's affections 
 captive, whose valour in the field had subdued the most 
 manly of his enemies. 
 
 22. To make this story pass for probable, we may fellow 
 it with the like in our English chronicles. Richard the 
 Third, though not so old, more ugly than Andronicus, 
 obtained the love, and was married to the countess of War- 
 wick, the relict of Prince Edward, son to King Henry the 
 Sixth, whom the same Richard had slain at Tewkesbury, she 
 knowing so much, and he not denying it : they were name- 
 sakes, both Anns, and when they had cast up their audit, 
 both, I believe, might equally boast of their bargains. 
 
 23. But Andronicus, who was never unseasonably amorous 
 (but had his lust subordinate to his ambition and cruelty, 
 when they gave him leave and leisure to prosecute his plea- 
 sure), was not softened by the dalliance of marriage to remit 
 anything of his former tyranny. He protested that he count- 
 ed the day lost wherein he had not killed or tortured some 
 eminent person ; or else, so planet-struck him with his frowns, 
 
368 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 that he enjoyed not himself after. He never put two men 
 together to death after the same way, as not consisting with 
 his state to wear one torture threadbare, but ever appeared 
 in exchange and variety of new manner of punishments. 
 And if any wonder that there was not a general insurrection 
 made against this monster of mankind to rend him from the 
 earth, know that he had one humour that did much help him, 
 in being stern and cruel to noblemen, but affable and cour- 
 teous to poor people, and so still kept in with the vulgar. 
 Besides, many stately structures he erected, and sweetened 
 his cruelties with some good acts for the public. Now, that 
 we might not seem to have weeded the life of Andronicus, or 
 to be akin to those flies which, travelling by many fragrant 
 flowers, only make their residence on some sewer or dunghill, 
 we will recount some of his good deeds ; and pity it was that 
 they had not proceeded from a better author. 
 
 24. He surveyed the walls of Constantinople, and mended 
 them wheresoever the chinks thereof did call for reparation. 
 He plucked down all the buildings without (yet so that the 
 o^vners sustained no loss thereby ) for fear in case of an enemy's 
 invasion those houses might serve them for ladders to scale 
 the city with more ease. Thus all Constantinople was 
 brought within the compass of her walls, as she remains at 
 this day, not like many ill-proportioned cities in Europe, 
 which groan under overgreat suburbs, so that the children 
 overtop the mother, and branch themselves forth into out- 
 streets, to the impairing of the root, both weakening and im- 
 poverishing the city itself. He bestowed great cost in adorn- 
 ing the porphyr}- throne which a usurper did provide and 
 beautify for a lawful prince to sit upon it. He brought fresh 
 water, a treasure in that place, through a magnificent aque- 
 duct, mto the heart of the city, which, after his death, was 
 spoiled out of spite (as private revenge, in a furious fit, oft 
 impairs the public good), people disclaiming to drink of his 
 water, who had m.ade the streets run with blood. His bene- 
 faction to the Church of Forty Mart)TS amounted almost to a 
 new founding thereof, intending his tomb in that place, though 
 it was arrant presumption in him who had denied the right 
 of sepulture to others, to promise the solemnity thereof unto 
 himself. 
 
 25. But that which gained him the greatest reputation 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 369 
 
 far and near, even amongst those that never saw his face, was 
 an edict for the saving of sliipwrecked goods. There was 
 amongst the Greeks a constant practice, founded in cruelty, 
 and strengthened by custom, that if a vessel was discovered 
 in danger of drowning, those on the shore, like so many raven- 
 ous vultures, flocked about that carcass, to pick out the eyes 
 thereof, the wealth therein. These made all their hay in foul 
 weather, which caused them not only duly to wait, but 
 heartily to wish for a tempest : and as the wicked tenants in 
 the gospel concluded to kill the heir, that so the inheritance 
 might be their own, these remorseless men, to prevent future 
 cavils and clamours about the goods, despatched the mariners 
 always, by wilfully neglecting their preservation, and too 
 often by downrig-ht contriving their destruction. More cruel 
 than the very stocks and stumps of trees which, growing by 
 rivers' sides, commonly hang over the water, as if out of pity 
 tendering their service to such as are in danger of drowning, 
 and stooping down to reach their hands to help them to the 
 shore. Now, Andronicus, taking this barbarous custom into 
 consideration, forbade it for the time to come, on most ter- 
 rible penalties (and this lion, if enraged, would, by his loud- 
 ness, roar hearing into the deaf), and enjoined all to improve 
 their utmost endeavours for the preservation of their persons. 
 Hence followed such an alteration, that shipwrecked goods, 
 if floating to land, safely kept themselves without any to 
 guard them. Men would rather blow their fingers than heat 
 their hands with a rotten plank ; rather go naked than cover 
 themselves with a rag of shipwrecked canvass. It was omin- 
 ous to steal the least inch of a cable, lest it lengthen itself into 
 a halter to him that took it. All things were preserved equally 
 safe, of what value soever, and untold pearl might lie on the 
 shore untouched, like so many oyster shells. This dispersed 
 the fame of his justice and mercy into foreign parts ; and as 
 sounds, which are carried along by the river's side, having the 
 advantage of hollow banks, and the water to convey them, are 
 heard sooner and quicker than sounds of the same loudness 
 over the land ; so the maritime actions of princes, concerning^ 
 trading, wherein strangers, as well as their own native sub- 
 jects, are interested, report them to the world in a higher tone, 
 and by a quicker passage, than any land-locked action of 
 theirs, which hath no further influence, but only terminates 
 
 B B 
 
370 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 in their own kingdom. Yea, this one ingratiating decree of 
 Andronicus did set him up with so full stock of reputation, 
 that upon the bare credit thereof he might now run on score 
 the committing of many murders, and never have his name 
 once called to account for any injustice therein. 
 
 26. And as the seamen by water, so the husbandmen by 
 land (and those we know have strong lungs and stout sides), 
 cried up the fame of Andronicus, because he was a great pre- 
 server of tillage, and corn was never at more reasonable rates 
 than in his reign. He cast a strict eye on all customers and 
 tax-gatherers, and as evil spirits are observed to walk much 
 about silver mines, so Andronicus did incessantly haunt all 
 public receivers of money ; and if finding them faulty, oh, ex- 
 cellent sport for the people to see how those sponges were 
 squeezed. He allowed large and Hberal maintenance to all 
 in places of judicature, that want might not tempt them to 
 corruption. Thus, even the worst of tyrants light sometimes 
 on good actions, either stumbling on them by chance, or out 
 of love, not of virtue, but of their own security. They are 
 wicked by the general rule of their lives, and pious by some 
 exceptions, just by fits, that they may be more safely unjust 
 when they please. And hereby Andronicus advanced him- 
 self to be tolerable amongst mankind. 
 
 27. We could willingly afford to dwell longer under the 
 temperate climate of his virtues, but travellers must on their 
 journey. Coming now to the third zone of his fury, which 
 indeed was not habitable, his foes he executed, because they 
 were his foes ; and his friends, because they were his friends. 
 For they that let out a courtesy at interest to a tyrant, com- 
 monly lose the principal : witness Canto Stephanus, the 
 great duke, admiral of the galleys, who, by betraying his 
 trust, brought Andronicus to Constantinople, and now fairly 
 had his eyes put out. As for Georgius Dissipatus, Andro- 
 nicus intended to roast him, being a corpulent man, upon a 
 spit, affirming that such fat venison wanted no larding, but 
 would baste itself, and meant to serve him up as a dainty dish 
 in a charger or tray, to his widow, had not some intervening 
 accident diverted it. He made a bloody decree, which had 
 a train of indefinite and unlimited extent, and would reach as 
 far as the desire of the measurer, namely, that all such of 
 the nobihty who were now, or should hereafter be cast into 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 371 
 
 prison, should be executed without any legal trial, with their 
 children and kindred. Prince Manuel, whose worse fault 
 was that Andronicus begat him, in vain opposed this decree, 
 alleging this to be the ready way for his father to un-emperor 
 himself, by destroying that relative title, and leaving himself 
 no subjects. 
 
 28. But Andronicus had found Scripture whereby to jus- 
 tify his act, and brought St. Paul for his patron, whose prac- 
 tice and confession he cited ; For the good that I would, I 
 do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now, if 
 I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that 
 dweUeth in me* God keep us from apocryphal comments 
 on canonical Scripture ! send us his pure text without the 
 gloss of Andronicus, who, belike conceived he could not be 
 a perfect tyrant by only torturing of men, except also he did 
 rack God's word, rending text from context, and both from 
 their true intent. 
 
 29. This decree startles such lords of the combination as 
 were left alive, together with Mamalus, principal secretary to 
 the late emperor, and Alexius Ducas, the most active, but not 
 nearest, prince of the blood. These meeting together, much 
 bemoaned themselves, till Mamalus countmg such puling pas- 
 sion beneath masculine spirits, thus uttered himself : 
 
 30. You late adorers of Andronicus, who did conceive it 
 would pose the power of Heaven to cure the state, save onli/ 
 by his hand, be your own judges, whether it be not just that 
 they should die of the physic who made a god of the physician. 
 Diseases do but their kind if they kill, and an evil expected 
 is the less evil ; but no such torment as to die of the remedy ; 
 only one help is left us, if secretly and speedily pursued. We 
 know Isaacius Angelas by birth and jnerit is entitled to the 
 crown. True, he lives privately in a convent ; hut worth can- 
 not be hid, it shines in the dark ; and greatness doth best be- 
 come them to wear it, by tvhom it is found, before it is sought 
 for, as more deserved than desired by them. Say not that he 
 is of too mild a disposition : for his soft temper will make the 
 better poultice for our sore necks, long galled with the yoke of 
 tyranny. And seeing we have thus long been unhappy under 
 
 * Rom. \ii. 19, 20. 
 
372 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 the extremities, the childhood of Alexius, and old years of 
 Audroiiicus, let us try our fortunes under the middle age of 
 Jsaucius ; and no doubt we shall light on the blessed mean 
 and happy temper of moderation. 
 
 31. The motion found entertainment beyond belief. And 
 yet Alexius Ducas offered it to their consideration, that so 
 meek a dove would never make good eagle : giving a charac- 
 ter how a prince should be accomplished with valour and ex- 
 perience, by insinuation designing himself. It is pleasant to 
 hear a proud man speaking modestly in his own praise, whilst 
 the auditors affect a wilful deafness, and will not hear his whis- 
 pering and slanting expressions, till at last he is fain to hollow 
 down right self-flattery into their ears. Here it fared thus with 
 Ducas, who thereby only exposed himself to contempt: and 
 perceiving no success, zealously concurred with the rest for 
 advancing of Isaacius. All necessary particulars were poli- 
 ticly contrived; each one had his task appointed him, some 
 to seize on the ships, others to secure the palace, make good 
 the great church ; and the whole model was exactly metho- 
 dized, considering the vast volume thereof, which consisted of 
 many persons of quality therein engaged. 
 
 (1182.) 1. But great designs, like wounds, if they take air, 
 corrupt. This project against Andronicus could not be co- 
 %'ertly carried, because consisting of a medley of persons of 
 different tempers and unsuiting souls, having private intents 
 to themselves, not cordially uniting their affections, but only 
 friends_/or the time being, against the common foe : so that 
 through the rifts and chinks of their several aims and ends, 
 which could not be jointed close together, the vigilance of An- 
 dronicus did steal a glimpse of their design, apprehensive 
 enough to light a candle for himself from the spark of the 
 smallest discovery. 
 
 2. And now let him alone to prevent their proceedings, by 
 cutting both them and theirs off, that no mindful heir might 
 succeed to their spite, and that with all possible speed ; for 
 he steered his actions by the compass of that character which 
 one made of him, as followeth : 
 
 I love at leisure favours to bestow. 
 
 And tickle men by dropping kind7iess slow ; 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 373 
 
 But my revenge 1 in one instant spend, 
 That moment which begins it doth it end. 
 
 Half doing undoes many, 'tis a sin 
 
 Not to be soundly sinful ; to begin. 
 
 And tire; I'll do the work. They strike in vain 
 
 Who strike so, that the stricken might complain. 
 
 3. Maraalus was the first who was brought to execution, 
 on this manner. A migiity fire was made, and to provoke 
 tlie tyranny thereof, as if that pure element of itself had been 
 too fine and slender effectually to torment him, they made the 
 flame more stiff and stuffy, by the mixture of pitch and brim- 
 stone. Then Mamalus was brought forth, stark naked, in- 
 somuch that all ingenuous beholders, out of a modest sym- 
 pathy, conceived that they saw themselves naked in seeing 
 him : and therefore, as much as lay in their power, they co- 
 vered him, by shutting their eyes; when the soldiers with 
 pikes were provided to thrust Mamalus into the fire, whilst 
 many spectators durst not express their pity to him, out of 
 pity to themselves, lest commiserating of him should be un- 
 derstood complying with him, but were cautious to confine 
 their compassion within the compass of their breast, that it 
 should not sally forth into their eyes and outward gestures. 
 
 4. Betvvixt this dilemma of deaths, the sharp pikes of the 
 soldiers on the one side, and fury of the fire on the other, he 
 preferred the former, not as most honourable, and best com- 
 plying with a military soul (not being at leisure, alas, in time 
 of torment to stand on terms of credit), but as least painful. 
 But the soldiers denied him this choice, and forced him into 
 the fire; and then hearing his shrieks, even those who refused 
 out of favour to give any pity to his person, could not, out of 
 justice, deny the payment of some compassion, bound there- 
 unto by the specialty of humanity, unto his miserable con- 
 dition. 
 
 5. Meantime, Andronicus was a spectator, tickling himself 
 with delight, only offended that the sport was so short, and 
 Mamalus dead too soon. The stench of whose burning flesh 
 offensive to others, was a perfume to him, w^ho had the Ro- 
 man nose of Caligula, Nero, Domitian,and such monsters of 
 cruelty : and, as he pleased his own smell with the odour of 
 revenge ; his sight, with beholding the execution; his ear, with 
 
374 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 the music of his enemy's dying groans : so there wanted not 
 those that wished that his other senses were also employed, 
 according to his deserts, his touch and taste, that they might 
 feelingly partake of the torture of the fire. Thus died Ma- 
 malus, scarce twenty-four years of age, before the bud of his 
 youth had opened into a flower, having in his parts not only 
 promises, but some assurance, that the hopes of his future 
 worth should be plentifully performed, had not this umimely 
 accident prevented it. 
 
 6. Lapardas acted next on the scaffold, though not con- 
 demned to death, but to have his eyes bored out : his extrac- 
 tion was noble, state great, pride greater ; to maintain which, 
 be contrived the advancing of Andronicus to the throne : the 
 under-ground foundation of whose greatness was closely laid 
 by Lapardas, whilst- he left the visible structure thereon to 
 others. Like a mole, he conveyed his train, closely spurring 
 on Basilius, who posted of himself to act in odious projects, 
 whilst himself skulked unseen ; hoping, if matters held, to be 
 rewarded by Andronicus for his secret service ; if they mis- 
 carried, to provide for his own safety ; seeing none could 
 challenge him of any appearing open ill actions wherein he 
 was engaged. 
 
 7. But quickly he fell off of his speed in serving Androni- 
 cus, whether because he conceived his deserts found not a 
 proportionable reward, or because he bare a love to the per- 
 son of Alexius ; or because he was not perfectly bad, and, 
 fainting in the way of wickedness, could not keep pace therein 
 with the fast and wide strides of Andronicus; or, which is most 
 probable, he slowly perceived his error, that tyrants pluck down 
 those stairs whereby they ascend to their greatness: and then, 
 too late, began to unravel what he weaved before. True it 
 was, he had assisted Andronicus so long that he had offended 
 all the side of Alexius, and had deserted him so soon that he 
 disengaged all the party of Andronicus, and so was unhappy 
 not to have the cordial affections of either. 
 
 8. On the scaffold he spake little, expecting that the pain 
 would kill him, confessing he owed a death to nature, and 
 a violent death to justice, and forgave all the world, save his 
 ownself. Beholding the sun, Farewell, said he, life of my 
 life, my night must be at my noon; and then laying his hands 
 on his eyes : Mmt I lose you thus? Was it because 1 shot 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 375 
 
 forth wanton glances, or beheld rivals with emnous looks, 
 or adored the shine of gold, that I must thus lose you? Or, 
 was it because I acted in a dark way, to advance the cruelty of 
 a tyrant, that now all my endeavours are seen by the world, 
 and I must he blind? However, divine justice appears clearest 
 to me in the loss of my eyes. Thus was Lapardas tortured : 
 and though some may think that Andronicus swerved from 
 his principles, taking away only light, not life from him, and 
 thereby rather more enraged h\m for, than wholly disabled 
 him from revenge; yet we may be assured, that tyrant did 
 never so do his works by the half, but that he struck out their 
 teeth whose eyes he bored out, so securing their persons that 
 he put them past power of doing him mischief. 
 
 9. During this raging cruelty of Andronicus, we may com- 
 mend, in Theodorus, the patriarch, rather his success than 
 policy, his simple goodness being incapable of the latter, who 
 seasonably withdrew himself from Constantinople, to a private 
 place he had provided in the isle of Terebynthus : here he Iiad 
 built him a handsome house, equally distant from envy and 
 contempt, bravery and baseness, so that if security and sweet- 
 ness had a mind to dwell together, they could not have found 
 a fitter place for that purpose. Several reasons moved him 
 to his speedy removal, besides the avoiding the fury of An- 
 dronicus. First, because Basilius undermined him at the 
 court in his patriarchship, Theodorus being absent thence, 
 when present there ; bearing only the name and blame, when 
 the other had the power and profit thereof. 
 
 10. Secondly, to avoid the sight of people, conceiving 
 every eye which did behold, did accuse him as a princi- 
 pal cause of their miseries, for helping Andronicus to the em- 
 pire. In whom Theodorus had been strangely mistook, as 
 
 » the best men are soonest deceived with the painted piety and 
 pensive looks of hypocrites, counting all gold that shines, all 
 sooth that is said ; betrayed by their own charity into a good 
 opinion of others. Lastly, it grieved him to see ignorance and 
 impiety so rampant, base hands committing daily rapes on the 
 virgin muses, so that they might now even ring out the bell 
 for dying learning, and sadly toll the knell for gasping reli- 
 gion. Wherefore, as divines solemnly observe, to go off of the 
 bench just before the sentence of condemnation is pronounced 
 upon die malefactor, so this patriarch, perceiving the city of 
 
376 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 ConstantiDople cast, by her own guiltiness, and by the con- 
 fession of her cri/ing sins against herself, thought it not fit for 
 him to stay there, till divine justice should pass a final fatal 
 doom upon the place, which he every minute expected, but 
 embraced this private opportunity of departure. 
 
 11. Soon after his retiring he ended his life : we need not 
 inquire into his disease, if we consider his age, accounting 
 now fourscore and four winters : and well might his years be 
 reckoned by wimers, as wanting both springs and summers 
 of prosperity, living in constant affliction : and yet the last 
 four years made more wounds in his heart than all the former 
 ploughed wrinkles in his face. He died not guilty of any 
 wealth, who long before had made the poor his heirs, and his 
 own hands his executors. After hearty prayers that religion 
 might shine when he was set, falling into a pious meditation, 
 he went out as a lamp for lack of oil ; no warning groan was 
 sighed forth to take his last farewell, but even he smiled him- 
 self into a corpse ; enough to confute those that they behe 
 death who call her grim and grizzly, which in him seemed 
 lovely and of a good complexion. The few servants he left 
 proportioned the funeral rather to their master's estate than 
 deserts, supplying in their sorrow the want of spices and 
 balm, which surely must be so much the more precious, as 
 the tears of men are to be preferred before gums, which are 
 but the weeping of trees. 
 
 12. The pati-iarch's place was quickly supplied by Basilius, 
 the bishop so often mentioned, preferred to the place by the 
 emperor. A patron and chaplain excellently met ; for what 
 one made law by his list, the other endeavoured to make 
 gospel by his learning. In stating of any controversy, Ba- 
 silius first studied to find out what Andronicus intended or 
 desired to do therein, and then let him alone to draw that 
 Scripture which would not come of itself, to prove the lawful- 
 ness of what the other would practise. Thus, in favour of him 
 he pronounced the legality of two most incestuous matches ; 
 and this Grecian pope gave him a dispensation to free hirn 
 fi-om all oaths of allegiance which he had formerly sworn to 
 Manuel or Alexius : for this was the humour of Andronicus, 
 to have religion along with him, so far as it lay in liis way, 
 courting the company of pious pretence, if possibly they might 
 be procured, to countenance his designs : but in case they 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICVS. 377 
 were so foul that no gloss of justice could be put upon them, 
 he disdained that piety which would not befriend him, and 
 impudently acted his pleasure in open opposition of all reh- 
 gion. 
 
 13. But whilst this BasiHus was thus hot about his secular 
 affairs, there wanted not an aged hermit, who took him to 
 task, and soundly told him his own, though it made but small 
 impression in him. Meeting him at advantage : Hermits, i/ou 
 know, said he, hate both luxury and complhnent. In plain 
 truth, I must chide you, that seeing earth is but your inn, and 
 heaven your home, you mistake the first for the latter. Man's 
 soul is so intent on its presetit object, that it is impossible it 
 should attend two callings at the same time, but must needs 
 make default in the pursuance of one of them. Your temporal 
 iyitermeddling draws the envy of the laity, for whose love you 
 should rather labour. Nor are you stored with foreign ob- 
 servations really to enable you for such undertakings. Say not 
 that you may meddle with temporal state ajfairs, and yet not 
 entangle yourself with them, seeing the world is such a witch, 
 it is impossible to do the one without the other. Observe those 
 clergy sticklers on the civil stage, and you shall seldom find 
 them crowned v:ith a quiet death. Kemember your predeces- 
 sor Chrysostoiii, who did only pray and preach, and read, and 
 write, thereby made happy in the despite of his enemies ; for 
 though twice expelled his patriarchship, he was twice restored 
 with greater honour : so that it was not want of policy which 
 lost, but store of piety, which caused him to recover his place 
 again. Speak I not this out of any repining at the lustre of 
 your preferment, who envy outward honour no more than the 
 shining of a glow worm, but merely out of love to your person, 
 and desire of your happiness. 
 
 14. But Basilius, in some passion, returned : I perceive you 
 are lately broken loose out of your cell, which makesyoumore 
 fierce and keen, like haxvks ichen they are first unhooded, and 
 newly restored to the light. Know, sir, one may well attend 
 two callings if they be subordinate, as the means and the end. 
 All my secular business is in order to the good of the church. 
 The love of the laity unto us, without some awe mingled with 
 it, can neither be long lasting nor much serviceable. My edu- 
 cation hath admitted me into general learning, and made me 
 capable of any employment. I deny not the icorld to be a witch, 
 
378 THE PROFANE STATE, 
 
 but I know how to arm my soul loith holy spells against all 
 her enchantments. Whereas you say, one cannot meddle with 
 worldly matters hut must entangle himself therewith, it is all 
 one as ij' you should affirm that a temperate man cannot eat 
 meat hut he must surftit. Proofs from the event, argue not 
 the justice or injustice of the act ; and nothing can be inferred 
 from the ill success of our meddling in secular affairs. To your 
 instance of Chrysostom, I oppose the example of Augustine, 
 bishop of Hippo, who set in full brightness, and yet kept a 
 court in his own house, where he umpired and decided all tem- 
 poral controversies. You trample on that which you call pride 
 in me, with that which is so in yourself. And all this proceeds 
 out of spite, because you cannot turn your cowl into a mitre. 
 
 15. But Basilius was deaf to all these persuasions, and 
 joining with Hagio-Christophorites Stephanus, chief engineer 
 for Andronicus, advanced all cruel designs. And now Ma- 
 malusand Lapardus being executed, all others were possessed 
 with a panic fear : and no wonder when the string is broken, 
 if the beads be scattered. It being feared that the plot mis- 
 carried, they strove to make themselves innocent, by first 
 making others guilty. And yet it was vain to take the pains 
 who should start quickest, when they all met even at the 
 post : for Andronicus took order that they were all alike ex- 
 ecuted, 
 
 16. There were two of his creatures, Trypsicus and Ha- 
 gio-Christophorites Stephanus, who only fell out who should 
 be most officious to him. Each had the other in jealousy, 
 fearing his rival would engross the emperor unto him. Es- 
 pecially Stephanus was fearful of Trypsicus ; understanding 
 that Andronicus wrote private letters unto him, styling him 
 his beloved friend, with other expressions which spake more 
 intimacy than Stephanus was willing to hear. This Trypsicus 
 had been a dangerous promoter in all company, representing 
 to Andronicus every syllable spoken against him, to the dis- 
 advantage of the speaker, and as one saith, I conceive rather 
 in the language of the times than his own. Every man then 
 was to give an account of every idle icord. It happened 
 therefore that one was procured, who accused Trypsicus for 
 jeering of John, the emperor's eldest son, for deformed, and 
 that he scattered some loose expressions, bewailing the misery 
 of the times. Now, though the great service which Trypsicus 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 379 
 had done, might deserve to overweigh so light an offence, it 
 cost him his life, confiscation of his goods, and ruin of his 
 posterity. 
 
 17. Now hath Stephanus room to domineer alone in the 
 favour of Andronicus, sending him to seize on Isaacius, who 
 for the present was got out of his convent. It was past the 
 skill of the spaniel to catch him, who dived for the instant, 
 but we shall find him in due time above the water, and that 
 to purpose. 
 
 (1183.) 1. Security is the mother of danger, and the grand- 
 mother of destruction. Let Andronicus be a proof hereof, 
 who now, nearest to his ruin, grew most confident, as con- 
 ceiving he had stopped every cranny where danger might 
 creep in, and therefore, in a bravery, he sent a defiance to 
 fortune herself, which, notwithstanding, was returned with 
 his own speedy overthrow. 
 
 2. Yet could he not justly complain that he was suddenly 
 surprised, seeing nature might seem to have gone out of her 
 way to give him warning, and Nemesis did not hunt him so 
 fast but that she allowed him fair law to provide for himself, 
 by several prodigies which happened at that time. But An- 
 dronicus, not only against the full intent, but almost visible 
 meaning, of the same accidents, did make a jesting construc- 
 tion of them, and was deaf to the loud language of all ominous 
 passages, as not relating unto him. 
 
 3. Being told of the apparition of a comet (nolieger star of 
 heaven, but an extraordinar}' ambassador), portending his death, 
 as some expounded it, he scoffingly replied, that he was glad 
 to see the heavens so merry to make bonfires for his triumphs : 
 and what was a comet but the kitchen stuff of the air, which, 
 blazing for a while, would go out in a snuff : adding, that 
 that star might presage the fall of some prince that wore long 
 hair, whereas his was short enough. When another told him 
 of an earthquake which had lately happpened, I am glad, 
 saith he, that the mother-earth, sick of the colicy had so good 
 a vent for her mind. Being informed that the statue of St. 
 Paul, his tutelary saint, was seen to weep, he evaded the sad 
 presage thereof, by distinguishing on tears, there being an 
 homonymy in their language, as bearing not only different 
 but contrary senses, proceeding either from mirth or mour- 
 
380 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 ning; and therefore, that weeping might probably foreshew 
 good success. In a word, all serious and solemn omens he 
 tuned to a jesting meaning, keeping himself constant to his 
 first principle; That fortune when feared, is a ty7xint ; when 
 scorned is a coward. But though he unjustly perverted the 
 sense of these prodigies, the event did truly interpret them 
 in his destruction. 
 
 4. For Isaacius Angelus, persecuted by the executioner, 
 jfied into the great church (in those days the sanctuai-y at large 
 for innocents), where, making an oration to the people, he ex- 
 ceeded expectation, and himself, as if hitherto he had thriftily 
 reserved his worth, a serious, others say, simple man, to 
 spend it more freely when occasion required it. He spake 
 not like those mercenary people who make their tongue 
 their ware, and eloquence their trade; but he uttered himself 
 so pathetically, that he did not court attention, but command 
 it. He made both his innocence and the cruelty of Andro- 
 nicus to appear so plain, that the people not only afforded 
 him protection for the present, but also bestowed on him 
 sovereignty for the future, and instantly elected and pro- 
 claimed him emperor of Greece. 
 
 5. Stand we here still and wonder what should be the 
 reason that Andronicus should suffer this Isaacius, next 
 prince of the blood, so long safisly to survive, who had cut 
 off other persons of less danger and lower degree. We can- 
 not ascribe it to his incogitancy, as inconsistent with his vast 
 memory, to forget a matter of such importance ; less can we 
 impute it to his pity, as if sparing him out of compassion : 
 seeing that a thread might sooner hope to be prolonged under 
 the knife of Atropos, than any to find favour under his im- 
 partial cruelty. Was it not then because he had him in his 
 power; and, counting himself sure to seize on him at plea- 
 sure, reserved him as sweetmeat, to close his stomach, when 
 iirst he had fed on several dishes of coarser diet ? Or, because 
 he slighted him as a narrow-hearted man, religiously bred in 
 a convent, unfit for a camp, the object rather of his contempt 
 than fear ; for that his hands might seem tied with his beads, 
 from being dangerously active in the state ? But, let us re- 
 move our wondering at this neglect of Andronicus, to make 
 room for our admiration of divine Providence, who con- 
 founded this politician in his own cunning. Thus the most 
 
LIFE OF ANBRONICUS. • 381 
 
 expert gamesters may sometimes oversee ; and, traitors, 
 though they be careful to cut down all trees which hinder 
 their ambitious prospect, will unawares leave one still stand- 
 ing, whereof their own gallows may be made. 
 
 6. Immediately all the prisons in the city were set open, 
 and those petty sinks of dissolute people emptied themselves 
 into a common sewer, and became into a tumultuous torrent. 
 Headlong they haste to the palace of Andronicus, where, not 
 finding him at home, they wreaked their spite upon that 
 beautiful building and sumptuous furniture therein. Should 
 I insist upon particulars, all sorts of readers would be sadded 
 therewith. Ladies would lament the loss of so many pearls 
 and precious stones, whose very cases were jewels ; soldiers 
 bemoan the spoiling of so magnificent an armoury ; but 
 scholars would be most passionate, to bewail the want of 
 that library so full fraught with rarities, that nothing abated 
 the preciousness, but the plenty of them. Many records, 
 the stairs whereby antiquaries climb up into the knowledge 
 of former times, were torn in pieces, though we need not be- 
 lieve them so old as that some of them had escaped Noah's 
 flood, and were now drowned in a popular deluge > 
 
 7. Nothing was preserved whole and entire. Whether, 
 because they pretended some religion in revenge, as not aim- 
 ing, out of covetousness to enrich themselves, but out of 
 justice to punish the tyrant ; or because they thought the very 
 goods of Andronicus were become evil, guilty of their owner's 
 faults, and therefore were all to be abolished as execrable : 
 yea, as if the very chapel itself which he had built had been 
 unhallowed by the profaneness of the founder, with ihe 
 utensils thereof, it was defaced. A stately structure it was, 
 Andronicus not being of their opinion who, conceiving a 
 holy horror to live in dark and humble cells, fancy not trium- 
 phant churches, for fear that their hearts be there lost in their 
 eyes. But he professed his devotion to rise with the roof of 
 the church ; so that his soul seemed to anticipate heaven, 
 by beholding the earnest thereof m a beautiful temple. How- 
 ever, now his chapel was laid flat to the ground ; and, 
 amongst other things therein of inestimable value, the letter 
 which, by tradition, was reported to be written by Christ's 
 own hands, to Abgarus, king of Edessa, then was embezzled. 
 So irresistible is the tyranny of a tumult ; and therefore, it 
 
382 # THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 may be all good men's prayers that the people may either 
 
 never understand their own power, or always use it aright. 
 
 8. Andronicus, as we said before, had secretly conveyed 
 himself away. Who would not have thought but that this 
 great fencer should have been provided of variety of guards 
 against all the cross-blows of fortune ; at least to have had 
 some impregnable place near hand, to retire unto ? Whereas 
 he had no other policy to escape, than that poor shift, which 
 the silly simple hare useth against the hounds, by flying be- 
 fore them. Indeed, had the conspiracy against Andronicus 
 been but local or partial, so that he had any sound part to 
 begin on, he would probably have made resistance, as physi- 
 cians must have some strength of nature in their patient, to 
 practise on ; but the defection from him was so general and 
 universal, he found not any effectual friend left him. Only 
 he had scraped together a mass of coin, more trusting in 
 money than men, hoping in foreign parts to buy some friends 
 therewith ; knowing that gold, if weight, is current in all 
 countries. Then taking Anna, his empress, and Maraptica, 
 his whore, with some few servants he durst confide in, and 
 the treasure he had formerly provided, he made speed, in a 
 pinnance, through the Black Sea, to the Tauro-Scythians, out 
 of the bounds of his empire, hoping there to live in quiet. 
 And because we have mentioned Anna the empress, we can- 
 not pass her by in silence. For if one would draw a map of 
 misery, to pair like years with like mishap, it is hard to find 
 a fitter pattern. 
 
 9. Daughter she was to the king of France, being married 
 a child (having little list to love, and less to aspire) to the 
 young emperor Alexius, whilst both their years put together 
 could not spell thirty. After this, she had time too much to 
 bemoan, but none at all to amend her condition, being 
 slighted and neglected by her husband. Ofttimes being alone, 
 as sorrow loves no witness, having room and leisure to bewail 
 herself, she would relate the chronicle of her unhappiness to 
 the walls, as hoping to find pity from stones when men 
 proved unkind unto her. Much did she envy the felicity of 
 those milkmaids, who each morning passed over the virgin 
 dew and pearled grass, sweetly singing by day, and soundly 
 sleeping at night, who had the privilege freely to bestow 
 their affections, and wed them wl:o were high in love, 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 383 
 though low in condition ; whereas, royal birth had denied 
 her that happiness, having neither hberty to choose, nor leave 
 to refuse ; being compelled to love, and sacrificed to the 
 politic ends of her potent parents. 
 
 10. But Anna, unhappy at her first voyage, hoped to 
 better her condition by a second adventure ; yet made more 
 haste than good speed, marrying Andronicus some weeks after 
 the death of Alexius. Surely there is an annus luctus, a 
 yea?- of mourning, which the modesty of widows may do 
 well to observe, lest, neglecting it in their widowhood, it be 
 required of them afterwards, with interest, in the ill success 
 of their second marriage. For Maraptica, a proud harlot, 
 but excellent musician, jostled with Anna in the emperor's 
 affection (and half an old husband was too much for a 
 young lady to spare) ; and in process of time prevailed to 
 obtain violent possession. The empress, knowing herself 
 honest and amiable, stood on her deserts ; not descending to 
 beg that love which she conceived due unto her, but daring 
 him to detain it at his own peril, seeing he wronged himself 
 in wronging of her, forfeiting his troth, which he had publicly 
 pledged unto her. But the courtezan, knowing that that love 
 needs buttresses in cunning which hath no foundation in 
 conscience, applied herself in all particulars to be complaisant 
 to the desires of Andronicus. This Maraptica, though she had 
 fair fine fingers to play on the lute, had otherwise foul great 
 clutches to snatch, grasp, and hold whatsoever she could 
 come by. And knowing that she had but a short term in the 
 tenement of her greatness (subject both to the mortality and 
 mutability of Andronicus), and withal that she was not bound 
 to reparations, therefore cared not what waste she made ; but 
 by wrong and rapine scraped together a mass of money. 
 Meantime Anna was kept poor enough; who, whilst maid, 
 vvidow, and wife (twice a bride before once a woman), scarce 
 saw a joyful day ; though born of a king, and wedded to two 
 emperors. 
 
 1 1 . But to return to Andronicus, who, pursued after by his 
 guilty conscience, found no rest in himself ; so that for many 
 nights sleep was a stranger unto him. He that had put out 
 other men's eyes, could not close his own ; and when nature 
 in him starved for want of rest, did at last hungrily snatch 
 at short slumbers. Dreams did more terrify, than sleep re- 
 
384 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 fresh him. His active fancy in the night did descant on what 
 he had done before. Sometimes, the pale ghost of Alexius 
 s^eemed with glowing pincers to torment him; otherwhile 
 Maria Caesarissa stitched hot burning needles through his side ; 
 and, not long after, two streams of reeking blood seemed to 
 flow out of the eyes of Lapardas, wherein Andronicus for 
 awhile seemed to swim, till, beginning to sink, to save him- 
 self, he caught hold on his pillow, and so did awake. 
 
 12. W hen awaked, his mind was musing upon a pro- 
 phesy which some days since was delivered unto him : for he 
 had employed an agent, unto one Seth, an old conjurer, to 
 know of him what should be the name of his next successor 
 in the empire. Now, first a great S . was presented in a 
 bason of water, and next that an I, but both so doubt- 
 fully delineated that they were hardly legible : done on 
 purpose for several reasons. Because it stood not with the 
 state of the prince of darkness^ to be over-clear in his acts ; 
 and those that vend bad wares love to keep blind shops. Be- 
 sides, obscurity added venerations to his oracle, and active 
 superstitious fancies, whet with the difficulty of them, would 
 be sharpsighted to read more than was written. But the 
 main was to save his own credit, taking covert of mystical 
 expressions, that in case Satan should fail in his answers, he 
 might lay the blame on men's understanding him. 
 
 13. Put then these two letters together S. I., and read 
 them backwards I. S. by an hysterosis, and take a part of the 
 whole by a synecdoche (all favourable figures must be used 
 to piece out the devil's short skill in future contingents), and 
 then Andronicus was told by the conjurer he had the name 
 of his successor. Ask me not why hell's alphabet must be 
 read backward ; let Satan give an account of his own cozen- 
 age : whether out of an apish imitation of the Hebrew, which 
 is read retrograde, or because that ugly filthy serpent crawls 
 cancer-like, or to make his answers the more enigmatical, 
 for the reasons aforesaid. Andronicus by this I. S. under- 
 stood I. Sau7'us Comneiius, who lately, by usurpation, had 
 set up a kingdom in the isle of Cyprus, and therefore always 
 observed him with a jealous eye, and now too late perceives 
 his error, and finds the prophesy performed in Isaacius An- 
 gelus. 
 
 14. Thus, those that are correspondents with the devil, 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 385 
 for such intelligence, have need when they have received the 
 text of his answers, to borrow his comment too, lest other- 
 wise they mistake his meaning. And men may justly take 
 heed of curiosity to know things to come, which is one of 
 the kernels of the forbidden fruit, and even in our age sticks 
 still in the throats of too many, even to the danger of cho- 
 king them, if it be not warily prevented. 
 
 15. Hitherto what disasters had happened to Andronicus 
 might partly be imputed to men and second causes : where- 
 as now divine justice, to have its power praised in its punish- 
 ments, seemed visibly to put out a hand from heaven ; and 
 he wants eyes that cannot, or shuts them that will not, be- 
 hold it. See now the galley wherein he sailed, having all the 
 canvass thereof employed with a prosperous wind, when 
 suddenly it was checked in the full speed, and beaten back 
 with foul weather into a small harbour called Chele. Soon 
 after, the winds serving again, he set forth the second time, 
 and had not made many leagues when Neptune with his tri- 
 dent thrust him back again ; such was the violence of the 
 seas against him. A third time he set forth with a fair gale, 
 when instantly the wind changing forced him to return. Here, 
 what tugging, what towing, what rowing ! nothing was omit- 
 ted which art or industry, skill or will, could perform ; An- 
 dronicus, dropping a shower of gold to the sailors, to reward 
 the sweat that fell from them. All in vain ; for as, indeed^ 
 he had offended the fire with the innocents he burnt therein ; 
 angered the air with hundreds of carcasses which therein he 
 had caused to be hanged ; provoked the earth by burying 
 men alive in her bosom : so, most of all he had enraged the 
 water against him (now m.indful of his injuries), by him made 
 a charnel-house and general grave, into which the body of the 
 young emperor Alexius was cast, with thousands of his sub- 
 jects. God, herein to prevent all misconstructions of casualty, 
 which otherwise men might fasten upon it, and knowing that 
 men are slow in their apprehensions and dull in their memory 
 to learn the lessons of his justice, he reiterated and repeated 
 it three several times, that the most blockish scholar migrht 
 learn it perfectly by heart : This is the work of the Lord, and 
 it may justly seem marvellous in our eyes. Thus Andronicus 
 was the third time sent back to the place from whence he 
 came, and so to the place of execution. For he was no sooner 
 c c 
 
386 THE PROFANE STATE, 
 
 come to the shore, but servants, employed by Isaacius, who 
 had waylaid all the ports cn the Black Sea, stood ready to 
 arrest him. 
 
 (1184.) 1. Andronicus having now left him neither army 
 to fight nor legs to fly, being in the possession of his enemies, 
 betook himself to his tongue, bemoaning his case, and with 
 tears begging their favour. But those eyes which, weeping 
 in jest, had mocked others so often, could not now be trusted 
 that they were in earnest. The storm at land was more im- 
 placable than the tempest at sea. Two heavy iron chains were 
 put about his neck, in metal and weight different from them 
 he wore before, and, laden with fetters and insolencies from 
 the soldiers, who in such ware seldom give scant measure, he 
 was brought into the presence of Isaacius. Here the most 
 merciful and moderate contented themselves with tongue re- 
 venge, calling him dog of uncleanness, goat of lust, tiger of 
 cruelty, religion's ape, and envy's basilisk. But others pulled 
 him by the beard, twitched the hair left by age on his head, 
 and, proceeding from depriving him of ornamental excre- 
 ments, dashed out his teeth, put out one of his eyes, cut off 
 his right hand ; and thus maimed, without surgeon to dress 
 him, man to serve him, or meat to feed him, he was sent to 
 the public prison amongst thieves and robbers. 
 
 2. All these were but the beginning of evil unto him. Some 
 days after, with a shaved head crowned with garlick, he was 
 set on a scabbed camel, with his face backwards, holding the 
 tail thereof for a bridle, and was led clean through the city. 
 All the cruelties which he in two years and upwards had com- 
 mitted upon several persons were now abbreviated and epito- 
 mised on him, in as large a character as the shortness of the 
 time would give leave, and the subject itself vvas capable of : 
 they bm-nt him with torches and firebrands, tortured him with 
 pincers, threw abundance of dirt upon him ; and withal such 
 filthiness that the reader would stop his nose if I should tell 
 him the composition thereof; it is enough to say that the 
 vvorst thing that comes from man, was the best in the mixture 
 thereof. 
 
 3. Such as consult with their credit will be cautious iiow 
 they report improbable truth, fearing they will not be re- 
 ceived for truths, but rejected for improbable. Especially in 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 387 
 this age, wherein men resume their hberty, conceiving i 
 against the privilege of their judgments to have their beUef, 
 which should be a voluntary, pressed by the authority of others 
 to give credit to what bears not proportion with Hkehhood. 
 Could an old man, such a^ Andronicus was, past the age of 
 man, threescore and ten, who novi^ only lived bi/ the courfesi/ 
 of death to spare him, endure such pain, three miles, through 
 so populous a city ? The poets only feigned Atlas to be weary 
 of carrying of heaven ; but must not our Andronicus be either 
 stifled for want of breath, or back-broken with store of weight, 
 under so much earth thrown upon him ? And was it possible 
 that he who before these times had one foot in the grave, 
 should have the other not follow after, when driven with such 
 cruelty ? 
 
 4. To render this likely, we may consider, first, that it 
 was the intent of the people not to kill, but to torment him : 
 secondly, when one dish is to go clean through a table of 
 guests, men are mannerly ; all take some, though none enough. 
 Besides, he was one of a strong constitution, whose brawny 
 flesh nature had knit together with horny nerves. And yet, 
 had he been a weak man, a candle with a glimmering light 
 will burn long in a socket, being thrifty of itself. Life was 
 sweet to Andronicus under all those noisome smells ; and he 
 would not part with it whilst he could keep it. But what 
 was the main, it was possible God might support his life, either 
 out of justice or mercy. And we read in Scripture of men, 
 that tkej/ shall desire to die, and death ahull Jiee from them* 
 I say not of justice, visibly to acquit himself in the eyes of the 
 world, by making such a monster the open mark for man's 
 revenge; or out of mercy, giving him a long and large time 
 of repentance, if he had the happiness to make use thereof. 
 
 5. Behold here a strange conflict betwixt the cruelty of the 
 people on the one side, and the patience of Andronicus on 
 the other; and yet an indifferent umpire would adjudse the 
 victory to the latter : no raging, no raving, no muttering, no 
 repining, but swallowed all in silence, only he cried out, Lord 
 have mercy upon me! and, Why break ye a brained reed? and, 
 sensible of his own guiltiness, he seemed contented to pass 
 his purgatory here, that so he might escape hell hereafter. 
 
 * Kev. ix. G. 
 
388 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 6. After multitudes of other cruelties, tedious to us to re- 
 hearse, and how paiDftil then to bim to endure, he was hanged 
 by the heels betwixt two pillars. In this posture he put the 
 stump of his right arm, whose wound bleeded afresh, to his 
 raouth, so to quench, as some suppose, the extremity of his 
 iliirst with his own blood, having no other moisture allowed 
 him ; when one ran a sword through his back and belly, so 
 that his Ter\' entrails were seen, and seemed to call, thoush in 
 vain, on the bowels of the spectators to have some compas- 
 sion upon him. At last, with much ado, his soul, which had 
 so many doors opened for it, found a passage out of his body 
 into another world. 
 
 7. Hear how one of great learning* is charitably opini- 
 uned of his final state, making this apostrophe to his ghost : 
 Ohy Andronicus! Oh thou emperor of the east! how much 
 icast thou bound unto Godj whose tcUl it was that for a few 
 days thou shouldst suffer such thhigs^ that thou mightest not 
 perish for cter ! Thou wast miserable for a short time, that 
 thou mightest not be miserable for all elerniti/. I make no 
 doubt but thou hadst the years of eternity in mind, seeing that 
 thou didst suffer such things so constantly and courageously. 
 
 8. But doth not so strong diarity ai^ue a weak judgment ? 
 Despair it?elf may presume of salvation, if such an one was 
 saT»l. How improperly did he usurp that expression, com- 
 paring himself to a bruised reed^jr when another Scripture re- 
 semblance was more appUcable unto him, of a bulrush bowing 
 down his head^X only top-heavy for the present, with sense of 
 sufiering, not inwardly ccHitrite in heart for the sins he had 
 committed. Must not true repentance have a longer seasoii 
 to ripen it, and by works ensuing to avouch to the world the 
 sincerity thereof? Insomuch that, of late, some affirm that 
 the good thief on the cross did not th«i first begin, but first 
 roiew his repentance, lately interrupted by a felonious act. 
 Allow Andronicus for a saint, and we shall people heaven with 
 a new plantation of whores and thieves ; and how voluminous 
 will the Book of Martyrs be, if pain alone does make them ! 
 
 9. On the other side, we must be wary how in our cen- 
 sures we shut heaven 5 door agauisi any penitents. Far be it 
 
 * Drexelius upon Eternity, Fifth Consideration, p. 147. 
 t Matt. xii. 20. % Isaiah Iviii. 6. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 389 
 from us to distrust the power of God's mercy, or to deny the 
 efficacy of true though late repentance ; the last groan which 
 divorces the soul from the body may unite it to God : though 
 the arm of his body was cut off, the hand of his faith might 
 hold. All that I will add is this, if Andronicus' soul went to 
 heaven, it is pity that any should know of it, lest they be en- 
 couraged to imitate the wicked premises of his life, hoping by 
 his example to obtain the same happy conclusion after death. 
 
 10. After his execution, the tide of the people's fury did 
 turn, who began to love his memory, and lament his loss : 
 such as before were blinded with prejudice against him, could 
 now clearly see many good deeds he had done for the public, 
 and began to recount with themselves many sovereign laws 
 which he had enacted : some bemoaned the misery which he 
 had endured, as if his punishment was over proportioned to 
 his deserts. Whether this pity proceeded out of that general 
 humour of men never to value things till they are lost, or be- 
 cause their revenge had formerly surfeited upon him, and now 
 began to disgorge itself again ; or, which is most probable, 
 this compassion arose from the mutability and inconstancy of 
 human nature, which hates always to be imprisoned in one 
 and the same mind ; but being in constant motion through 
 the zodiac of all passions, will not stay long in the same sign^ 
 and sometimes goes from one extremity to another. 
 
 1 1 . By this time Isaacius was brought by Basilius, the pa- 
 triarch, unto the throne, and placed thereon with all solem- 
 nity ; then the crown was put upon his head, on the top whereof 
 was a diamond cross (greatness and care are twins) which Isa- 
 acius kissed : I welcome thee, said he, though not as a stranger , 
 who have been acquainted with crosses from my cradle: thou 
 art both my sword and my shield; for hitherto I have con- 
 quered with suffering. Then weighing the crown in his hand, 
 it is, saith he, a beautiful burthen, which loads more than it 
 adorns. 
 
 12. Here Basilius, the patriarch, made a sermon-like ora- 
 tion unto him, which, as it was uttered with much gravity, so 
 it was heard with no less attention, and embraced by the em- 
 peror with great thankfulness. Not presuming, sir, to teach 
 you what you do not know, I am incited by my calling, and 
 encouraged by your clemency, to put you in mind of what other- 
 
300 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 wise you may forget. This crown and sceptre loej'e sent you 
 from heaven ; only we have done our duty in delivering them 
 unto you: and now, methinksy that Divine Majesty perfectly 
 shines in you his image. These our eyes upheld, and folded 
 hands, and bared heads, and bended knees are due from us to 
 God, and we pay them to him, by paying them to you, his re- 
 ceiver. And we doubt not but you will improve the power 
 and honour bestowed on you for the protection of the people 
 committed unto you. 
 
 13. In a mans body, whilst natural heat and radical mois- 
 ture observe their limits, all is preserved in health : if either 
 exceeds their bounds, the body either drowns or burns. It fa- 
 reth thus in the constitution of the state betwixt your power and 
 our prosperity ; whilst both agree, they support one another : 
 but, if they fall out about mastery, even that which overcomes 
 will be destroyed in a general confusion. And if you should 
 betray your trust, thotigh we bow, and bear, and sigh, and sob, 
 armed with pray e7'S and tears; yet know, that our sad mourn- 
 ings will mount into that court where lie the appeals of sub- 
 jects and the censures of sovereigns, which will heavily be in- 
 flicted by Him whom you represent. Speak I not this out of 
 any distrust of your justice, but out of earnest desire of your 
 happiness, wishing that the greatness of Constantine, founder 
 of this place, the goodness of Jovian, the success of Honorius, 
 the long life ofValeris, the quiet death of Manuel, the immor- 
 falfame of Justinian, aiid whatsoever good was singledon them, 
 may jointly be heaped upon you and your posterity. 
 
 14. Hereupon followed such a shout of the people as the 
 oldest man present had not heard the like, and all interpreted 
 it as a token presaging the future felicity of the new emperor. 
 And thus we have presented the reader with the remarkable 
 intricacy and perplexity of success, as if fortune were like to 
 lose herself in a labyrinth of her own making, winding back- 
 ward and forward, within the compass of five years, with more 
 strange varieties than can easily be paralleled in so short a 
 conthiuance of time. 
 
 1. First, Alexius ; no Andronicus. 
 
 2. Then, Alexius and Andronicus. 
 
 3. Then, Andronicus and Alexius. 
 
 4. Then, Andronicus; no Alexius. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 391 
 
 5. Then, Isaacius ; no Andronicus. 
 
 Thus, few strings curiously played upon by the cunning 
 lingers of a skilful artist may make much music ; and Divine 
 Providence made here a miraculous harmony by these odd 
 expected transpositions, tuning all to his own glory. 
 
 15. Here I intended to end our history, save that I cannot 
 discharge my trust, and be faithful to the truth, without tak- 
 ing some special observation of Basilius. We cannot forget 
 how active an instrument he had been to serve the cruelty of 
 Andronicus; and when first I looked wistfully upon his hand, 
 so busied in wicked employments, I presently read his for- 
 tune, that he should come to a violent death. The old her- 
 mit seemed to me a prophet,* to confirm me in my opinion, 
 when reproving him for stickling in temporal matters, and my 
 conjectures grew confident that this patriarch, in process of 
 time, would either shake off his mitre from his head, or his head 
 from his shoulders. And perchance, if the ingenuous reader 
 would be pleased freely to confess his thoughts therein, he was 
 possessed with the same expectation. 
 
 16. How wide were we from the mark ! How blind is man 
 in future contingents ! How wise is God, in crossing our con- 
 ceits, leaving the world amused with his ways ; that men find- 
 ing themselves at a loss, may learn more to adore what they 
 cannot understand ! See Basilius, as brave and as bright as 
 ever ; and whilst all his fellow servants had their wages paid 
 them by Andronicus, some made longer in their necks, others 
 shorter by their heads, he alone survives in health and honour, 
 which made most to admire what peculiar antidote of sove- 
 reign virtue he had gotten, to preserve himself from the in- 
 fectious fury of that tyrant. 
 
 17. But that which advanceth this wonder into the marks 
 of a miracle is, that this cunning pilot should so quickly tack 
 about when the wind changed, and ingratiate himself with 
 Isaacius. When times suddenly turned from extremes, those 
 persons who formerly were first in favour are cast farthest 
 behind, and they must be very active and industrious to re- 
 cover themselves. But Basilius, by a strange dexterity, was 
 instantly in the front of favourites, and, without any abate- 
 
 * Vide page 377, antea. 
 
392 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 ment, carried it in as high a strain as ever before ; and al- 
 though, being weary already, I am loth to travel further into 
 the reign of this new emperor, to see in the sequel thereof 
 what became of Basilius at last ; yet, so far as I can from the 
 best chosen advantage discern and discover his success, no 
 signal punishment above the ordinary standard of casualties 
 did befall him ; and, for aught appears to the contrary, he died 
 in his bed. 
 
 18. Of such as seriously consider this accident, some per- 
 chance may be so well stocked with charity as to conceive 
 that he repented of his former impiety, and thereupon was 
 pardoned by Heaven, and came to a peaceable end. Others 
 may conceive that as when a whole forest of trees is felled, 
 some aged eminent oak by the highway's side may be suf- 
 fered to survive, as useless for timber because decayed, yet 
 useful for a landmark for the direction of travellers, so Basi- 
 lius, being now aged and past dangerous activity, was preserved 
 for the information of posterity, and when all others were cut 
 down by cruel deaths, he left alone to instruct the ensuing 
 age of the tragical passage which had happened in his re- 
 membrance. But the most soHd and judicious will express 
 themselves in the language of the apostle : So?ne men' a sins are 
 open beforehand, going before to judgment, and some meiis fol- 
 low after. ^ All notorious offenders are not publicly branded 
 in the world with an infamous character of shame or pain, but 
 some carry their sins concealed, and receive the reward for 
 them in another world. 
 
 19. It only remaineth that we now give the personal de- 
 scription of Andronicus, so far forth as it may be collected 
 from the few extant authors who have written thereof. 
 
 I. His stature. — He was higher than the ordinary sort of 
 men. He was seven full feet in length, if there be no mistake 
 in the difference of the measure : and whereas, often the cock- 
 loft is empty in those which nature hath built many stories 
 high, his head was sufficiently stored with all abilities. 
 
 II. His temper. — Of a most healthful constitution ; of a 
 lively colour, and vigorous limbs, so that he was used to say 
 that he could endure the violence of any disease for a twelve- 
 
 * 1 Tim. V. 24. 
 
LIFE OF ANDRONICUS. 393 
 month together, by his sole natural strength, without being 
 beholden to art, or any assistance of physic. 
 
 III. His learning. — He had a quick apprehension and 
 solid judgment, and was able on any emergent occasion to 
 speak rationally on any controversy in divinity. He would 
 not abide to hear any fundamental point of religion brought 
 into question ; insomuch that when once two bishops began 
 to contend about the meaning of that noted place, Mi/ Father 
 is greater than lam, Andronicus, suspecting that they would 
 fall foul upon the Arian heresy, vowed to throw them both 
 into the river, except they would be quiet : a way to quench 
 the hottest disputation by an inartificial answer drawn from 
 such authority. 
 
 IV. His wives. — First, Theodora Comnenia, daughter of 
 Isaacius Sebasto Crator, his nearest kinswoman ; so that the 
 marriage was most incestuous. 
 
 The second, Anna, daughter to the king of France, of 
 whom largely before. 
 
 V. His lawful issue, both hy his first wife. — John Com- 
 nenius, his eldest son. It seems he was much deformed, and 
 his soul as cruel as his body ugly. He assisted Hagio Chris- 
 tophorita-Stephanus in the stifling of Xene. 
 
 Manuel, his second son, of a most virtuous disposition. 
 Let those that undertake the ensuing history shew how both 
 had their eyes bored out by Isaacius. 
 
 VI. His natural issue. — I meet with none of their names, 
 and though he lived wantonly with many harlots and concu- 
 bines, yet what a father observeth, Tro\vyafiia ttouI dreKviav, 
 Many wives make feio children: and it may be imputed to 
 the providence of nature, that monsters such as Andronicus, 
 in this particular, are happy that they are barren, 
 
 VII. His burial. — By public edict it was prohibited that 
 any should bury his body ; however, some were found who 
 bestowed, though not a solemn grave, yet an obscure hole 
 upon him, not out of pity to him, but out of love to them- 
 selves; except any will say that his corpse, by extraordinary 
 stench, provided its own burial, to avoid a general annoy- 
 ance. 
 
394 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 XIX. — The Life of Duke D'Alva. 
 
 FERDINAND Alvarez de Toledo, duke of Alva, one bred 
 abroad in the world in several wars (whom Charles the 
 Fifth more employed than affected, using his churlish nature 
 to hew knotty service) was by Philip the Second, king of Spain, 
 appointed governor of the Netherlands. 
 
 At his tirst arrival there, the loyalty of the Netherlanders 
 to the king of Spain was rather out of joint than broken off, 
 as not being weary of his government but their own grievances. 
 The wound was rather painful than deadly : only the skirts 
 of their lungs were tainted, sending out discontented not re- 
 beUious breath, much regretting that their privileges, civil and 
 ecclesiastical, were infringed, and they grinded with exactions 
 against their laws and liberties. 
 
 But now Duke D'Alva coming amongst them, he intended 
 to cancel all their charters with his sword, and to reduce them 
 to absolute obedience. And whereas every city was fenced 
 not only with several walls, but different local liberties and 
 municipal immunities, he meant to lay all their privileges 
 level, and, casting them into a flat, to stretch a line of absolute 
 command over them. He accounted them a nation rather 
 stubborn than valiant, and that not from stoutness of nature, 
 but want of correction, through the long indulgence of their 
 late governors. He secretly accused Margaret duchess of 
 Parma, the last governess, for too much gentleness towards 
 them, as if she meant to cure a gangrened arm with a 
 lenitive plaster, and affirmed that a lady's hands were too 
 soft to pluck up such thistles by the root. Wherefore the 
 said duchess, soon after D 'Alva's arrival, counting it less 
 shame to set than to be outshined, petitioned to resign her 
 regency, and returned into Italy. 
 
 To welcome the duke at his entrance, he was entertained 
 with prodiofies and monstrous births,* which happened in 
 sundrv places in 1 568 ; as if nature on set purpose mistook her 
 mark, and made her hand to swerve, that she might shoot a 
 warning piece to these countries, and give them a watchword 
 of the future calamities they were to expect. The duke, 
 
 * Famianus, Stra. de Bello Belgico, p. 430. 
 
LIFE OF DUKE B'ALVA. 395 
 nothing moved hereat, proceeds to effect his project, and first 
 sets up the Council of Troubles, consisting of twelve, the duke 
 being the president. And this council was to order all things 
 in an arbitrary way, without any appeal from them. Of these 
 twelve some were strangers, such as should not sympathize 
 with the miseries of the country ; others were upstarts, men 
 of no blood, and therefore most bloody, who, being themselves 
 oTovvn up in a day, cared not how many they cut down in an 
 hour. And now, rather to give some colour than any virtue 
 to this new composition of councillors, four Dutch lords were 
 mingled with them, that the native nobility might not seem 
 wholly neglected. Castles were built in every city to bridle 
 the inhabitants, and garrisons put into them ; new bishops' 
 sees erected in several cities, and the inquisition brought 
 into the country. This inquisition, first invented against the 
 Moors as a trap to catch vermin, was afterwards used as a 
 snare to catch sheep, yea they made it heresy for to be rich. 
 And though all these proceedings were contrary to the solemn 
 oath King Philip had taken, yet the pope (v^'ho only keeps 
 an oath-office, and takes power to dispense with men's con- 
 sciences) granted him a faculty to set him free from his 
 promise. 
 
 Sure as some adventurous physicians, when they are posed 
 with a mongrel disease, drive it on set purpose into a fever, 
 that so knowing the kind of the malady they may the better 
 apply the cure : so Duke D'Alva was minded by his cruel 
 usage to force their discontents into open rebellion, hoping 
 the better to come to quench the fire when it blazed out, than 
 when it smoked and smothered. 
 
 And now to frighten the rest, with a subtle train he seizeth 
 on the earls of Egmond and Horn, These counted themselves 
 armed with innocency and desert, having performed most 
 excellent service for the king of Spain. But when subjects' 
 deserts are above their prince's requittal, oftentimes they study 
 not so much to pay their debts as to make away their credi- 
 tors. All these victories could not excuse them, no» the 
 laurel wreaths on their heads keep their necks from the axe, 
 and the rather because their eyes must first be closed up, 
 which could never have patiently beheld the enslaving of t1)eir 
 country. The French ambassador was at their execution, 
 and wrote to his master, Charles the Ninth, king of France, 
 
396 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 concerning the earl of Egmond, That he saxo that head struck 
 off in the market-place of Brussels, whose valour had twice 
 made France to shake* 
 
 This Council of Troubles having once tasted noble blood, 
 drank their bellyfulls afterwards. Then descending to in- 
 ferior persons, by apprehensions, executions, confiscations, 
 and banishments, they raged on men's lives and estates. 
 Such as upon the vain hope of pardon returned to their houses, 
 were apprehended, and executed by fire, water, gibbets, and 
 the sword, and other kinds of deaths and torments ; yea the 
 bodies of the dead (on whom the earth as their common 
 mother bestowed a grave as a child's portion) were cast out of 
 their tombs by the duke's command, whose cruelty outstunk 
 the noisomeness of their carcasses. f 
 
 And lest the maintaming of garrisons might be burdensome 
 to the king his master, he laid heavy impositions on the 
 people : the duke affirming that these countries were fat 
 enough to be stewed in their own liquor, and that the soldiers 
 here might be maintained by the profits arising hence ; yea he 
 boasted that he had found the mines of Peru in the Low 
 Countries, though the digging of them never quitted the cost. 
 He demanded the hundredth penny of all their moveable and 
 immoveable goods, and besides that the tenth penny of their 
 moveable goods that should be bought and sold, with the 
 twentieth penny of their immoveable goods ; without any 
 mention of any time how long those taxes and exactions should 
 continue. 
 
 The states protested against the injustice hereof, alleging 
 that all trading would be pressed to death under the weight 
 of this taxation : weaving of stuffs, their staple trade, would 
 soon decay, and their shuttles would be very slow, having so 
 heavy a clog hanging on them ; yea, hereby the same com- 
 modity must pay a new toll at every passage into a new trade. 
 This would dishearten all industry, and make laziness and pain- 
 fulness both of a rate when beggary was the reward of both, by 
 reason of this heavy imposition which made men pay dear for 
 the sweat of their own brows. And yet the weight did not grieve 
 them so much as the hand which laid it on, being imposed 
 
 * Fam. Strad. de Bell. Belgico, p. 449. 
 t Grirast. Hist, of the Netherlands, p. 413. 
 
LIFE OF DUKE D'ALVA. 397 
 by a foreign power against their ancient privilege. Hereupon 
 many Netherlanders finding their own country too hot, because 
 of intolerable taxes, sought out a more temperate climate, and 
 fled over into England. 
 
 As for such as staid behind, their hearts being brimful 
 before with discontents, now ran over. It is plain these 
 wars had their original, not out of the church, but the state- 
 house. Liberty was true doctrine to papist and protestant, 
 Jew and Christian. It is probable that in Noah's ark the 
 wolf agreed with the lamb, and that all creatures drowned 
 their antipathy, whilst all were in danger of drowning. Thus 
 all several religions made up one commonwealth to oppose 
 the Spaniard : and they thought it high time for the cow to 
 find her horns, when others, not content to milk her, went 
 about to cut off her bag. 
 
 It was a rare happiness that so many should meet in one 
 chief, William of Nassau, Prince of Orange, whom they chose 
 their governor. Yea, he met their affections more than half 
 way in his loving behaviour ; so that Alva's cruelty did not 
 drive more from him than Nassau's courtesy invited to him. 
 His popular nature was of such receipt, that he had room to 
 lodge all comers. In people's eyes his light shined bright, 
 yet dazzled none, all having free access unto him : every one 
 was as well pleased as if he had been prince himself, because 
 he might be so familiar with the prince. He was wont to 
 content those who proved his too much humanity, with this 
 saying, That man is cheap bought who costs but a suLutution.^ 
 I report the reader to the Belgian histories, where he may 
 see the changes of war betwixt these two sides. We will 
 only observe that Duke D'Alva's covetousness was above his 
 policy, in fencing the rich inland and neglecting the barren 
 maritime places. He only looked on the broad gates of the 
 country whereby it openeth to the continent of Germany and 
 France, whilst in the meantime almost half the Netherlands 
 ran out at the postern door towards the sea. Nassau's side 
 then wounded Achilles in the heel indeed, touched the Spa- 
 niard to the quick, when on Palm Sunday, as if the day 
 promised victory, at Brill they took the first livery and seizin 
 of the land, and got soon after most cities towards the sea. 
 
 * Baicl. Icon. Anim. cap. 5. 
 
398 THE PROFANE STATE. 
 
 Had Alva herein prevented him, probably he had made those 
 
 provinces as low in subjection as situation. 
 
 Now at last he began to be sensible of his error, and grew 
 weary of his command, desiring to hold that staff no longer 
 which he perceived he had taken by the wrong end. He 
 saw that going about to bridle the Netheilanders with build- 
 ing of castles in many places, they had gotten the bit into 
 their own teeth : he saw that war was not quickly to be 
 hunted out of that country, where it had taken covert in a 
 wood of cities : he saw the cost of some one city's siege would 
 pave the streets thereof with silver, each city, fort, and sconce 
 being a Go/dian knot, which would make Alexander's sword 
 turn edge before he could cut through it, so that this war and 
 the world were likely to end together, these Netherlands being 
 like the head-block in the chimney, where the fire of war is 
 always kept in, though out everywhere else, never quite 
 quenched, though raked up sometimes in the ashes of a truce. 
 Besides, he saw that the subdued part of the Netherlands 
 obeyed more for fear than love, and their loyalty did rather 
 lie in the Spanish garrisons than in their own hearts, and that 
 in their sighs they breathed many a prosperous gale to Nas- 
 sau's party : lastly, he saw that foreign princes, having the 
 Spaniard's greatness in suspicion, desired he might long be 
 digesting this breakfast, lest he should make his dinner on 
 them, both France and England counting the how Countries 
 their outworks to defend their wall : wherefore he petitioned 
 the king of Spain, his master, to call him home from this 
 unprofitable service. 
 
 Then was he called home, and lived some years after in 
 Spain, being well respected of the king, and employed by 
 him in conquering Portugal, contrary to the expectation of 
 most, who looked that the king's displeasure would fall heavy 
 on him, for causing by his cruelty the defection of so many 
 countries ; yet the king favourably retlected on him, perchance 
 to frustrate on purpose the hopes of many, and to shew that 
 king's affections will not tread in the beaten path of vulgar 
 expectation : or, seeing that the duke's life and state could 
 amount to poor satisfaction for his own losses, he thought it 
 more princely to remit the whole, than to be revenged but 
 in part: or lastly, because he would not measure his ser- 
 
LIFE OF DUKE D'ALVA. 399 
 vant's loyalty by the success, and lay the unexpected rubs in 
 the ally to the bowler's fault, who took good aim though miss- 
 ing the mark. This led many to believe that Alva only acted 
 the king's will, and not willed his acts, following the instruc- 
 tions he received, and rather going beyond than against his 
 commission. 
 
 However, most barbarous was his cruelty. He bragged as 
 he sat at dinner (and was it not a good grace after meat ?) that 
 he had caused eighteen thousand to be executed by the ordi- 
 nary minister of justice within the space of six years, besides 
 an infinite more murdered by other tyrannous means. Yea, 
 some men he killed many times, giving order to the executi- 
 oners to pronounce each syllable of torment long upon them, 
 that the thread of their life might not be cut off, but unra- 
 velled, as counting it no pain for men to die, except they died 
 with pain. Witness Anthony Utenhow, whom he caused to 
 be tied to a stake with a chain in Brussels,* compassing him 
 about with a great fire, but not touclimg him, turning him 
 round about like a poor beast, who was forced to live in that 
 great torment and extremity, roasting before the fire so long, 
 until the halberdiers themselves, having compassion on him, 
 thrust him through, contrary to the will both of the duke and 
 the Spanish priests. 
 
 When the city of Ilaerlem suiTendered themselves unto him 
 on condition to have their lives, he suffered some of the sol- 
 diers and burghers thereof to be starved to death, saying that 
 though he pronmed to give them their lives, he did not promist 
 to find them meat. The Nethevianders used to fright their 
 children with telling them Duke D'Alva was coming: and 
 no wonder if children were scared with him of whom their 
 fathers were afraid. 
 
 He was one of a lean body and visage, as if his eager soul, 
 biting for anger at the clog of his body, desired to fret a pas- 
 sage through it. He had this humour, that he neglected the 
 good counsel of others, especially if given him before he 
 asked it, and had rather stumble than beware of a block of 
 another man's telling. 
 
 But as his life was a mirror of cruelty, so was his death 
 
 * Giimst. Hist, o? the Netherlands, p. 411. 
 
40J THE PROF AXE STATE. 
 
 of God's patieoce. It was admirable that his tragical acts 
 should have a comical end ; that he that sent so many to the 
 grave should go to his own, and die in peace. But God's 
 justice on offenders goes not always in the same path, nor the 
 same pace : and he is not pardoned for die fault who is for n 
 while reprieved from the punishment ; yea, some- 
 times the guest in the inn goes quietly to 
 bed before the reckoning for his 
 supper is brought to him 
 to discharge. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 C. WTiittingham, Tooks Coon, Chaacery Lane.